Nebula Lullaby
by LASOS
Summary: After Bespin, Leia must adapt to life without the smuggler she loves. OT AU, set immediately after ESB. HSLO.
1. Discoveries

**Title: **Nebula Lullaby

**Summary: **What happens when Han never makes it back after Bespin.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. I'm just doing this for funsies and I'm not making any money.

_--_

C1: Discoveries

"_I miss the sound of your voice; And I miss the rush of your skin; And I miss the still of the silence as you breathe out and I breathe in..."_

Matt Nathanson, "Come On Get Higher"

--

**Coruscant, 5 ABY**

Her home is full of music. She keeps it playing softly, in the background, gliding across the walls and shiny wooden floors and the rich carpeting. Mellifluous Alderaanian waltzes. Sensual Tatooine sambas. Dulcet Nabooan symphonies. She loves the thunderous drumbeats of traditional Kashyyykian congas and the primal woodwinds heard by an Ewok fireside and the harmonies of Twi'lek operas and the slow simmer of blue Corellian jazz guitar. Each song, each opus, each melody is warm and inviting, more joyful than the one before. A sound system was the first thing she ordered installed in her opulent apartment. She wanted every room to float, to dance.

She wanted to block out the silence.

Because it is in the silence that she does her thinking, her remembering, her grieving. It is the silence that invites in all those lost souls, the souls of innocents she tried to save and not-so-innocents she tried to bring to justice. In the silence, she sees Alderaan, she sees a flash of green light, and then she sees nothing but shimmering dust, a sight too beautiful, too majestic, to have been the violent destruction of billions of lives. She sees her adopted mother withering away on her deathbed and she sees the mother that she never knew, that died before she began to form her memories. She sees the pain on her brother's face, sees him hanging from an antenna beneath a city in the clouds. She sees her torture, she sees the needles and the knives, she remembers the rape of her mind by her own father. She sees soldiers, lost, shot down, devoured in sparks and flames.

And she sees him. And that is the most painful of all.

It is the worst when she sees him, because she doesn't just see the pain. She sees the pleasure. She remembers the first time she met him, the first time he saved her life, and the countless times he did it again in the three years that followed. She replays all their fights, their spats, their thinly-veiled arguments that did little to mask the mutual desire that burned inside both of them. She remembers their first kiss, the feel of his lips against hers, his velvet tongue exploring her mouth, the sparks between them that made her weak in the knees. She can almost feel the waves of pleasure wash over her body as she remembers the love they made during those too-short months they were given together in space. The urgent joining, the tender coupling, the tangling of arms and legs and sheets and souls as they became one. She hears the rhythm of his heartbeat when she laid her head against his naked chest, soaking in the rapture of all they had become. She hears it even now, clearly, though she hasn't heard it in so long.

But she hates to remember the passion because she is then so violently reminded how it came to and end. She remembers her unease in the red-orange clouds and feels the acrid taste of bile creep up her throat. She remembers the terror that flooded her body at the sight of the man that had nearly broken her once before, the man that she later learned had sired her himself. She remembers, the tears now stinging her eyes, that he had tried to protect her, that scruffy and kind-hearted scoundrel, but it hadn't been she that needed the protection. Just as she can hear his heartbeat, she can hear his soul-shattering screams. They split through her heat and tear at her mind and threaten all the sanity she has left. And then she remembers the red and the blue, the steam, the sterile stench of that cold chamber. She remembers the yelling, the fighting. She remembers that last, desperate, urgent kiss, the pressure of their lips, the words that they wanted to say spoken wordlessly. She remembers telling him anyway, and she remembers that he knew, and she knew that he felt the same. The tears finally fall as she remembers the look in his eyes as he was lowered into that cursed chamber and the smile that died on his lips as he willed her to be brave for him. The sounds of the chamber, when they creep into her mind, make her nauseous, but the sound that she hates most of all is the memory of the slab that contained the man she loved so much crashing to that wretched floor.

She remembers feeling her heart break.

And she doesn't want to remember it anymore.

So she floods her home with music so she never has to fight with the silence. Childhood, her home on Alderaan, had been so musical, so full of life. Her father, the man she will forever consider her father, raised her with a dear love of art and music, passions of the heart. The man she fell in love with reawakened her with his own music, though now her heartstrings ache when she hears the music he loved. She tries to ignore the hollow ache the notes leave in her soul; instead she plays his favorite songs, the songs to which they danced slowly together, half-naked in his cabin, a prelude to the intimacy of his bed, because despite the sadness, those songs wrap her in light and joy and she can almost feel his arms around her once again.

She will dance with her brother, the only other human male she has any desire to live with, when he comes home. He taught her the samba and a raucous Tatooine tango, though he wasn't exactly sure he got all the steps right. She taught him the traditional waltz of Alderaanian High Court and the lazy two-step she learned on Naboo during the summer when they both had been twelve. She dances with the walking carpet, careful to avoid his oversized, furry trotters. She tries to dance with the former baron administrator, a man who has become hardened by what he did to them and the anguish that he feels in his soul. She tries to dance with him, to cheer him up, to show him that she forgives him, but he waves her away with his slick smile and a sip of his favorite whiskey.

She offers a dance to the visitors in her home. The former pilots that now serve the New Republic Navy that became such good friends during three years of war and grief. The generals that cared for her, that watched over her as if she were their own child in the years following Alderaan's destruction, smile and tap their toes in time with the rhythm. The fellow senators, the political consulates, the leaders of the New Republic, have all shared a smile with her, have commended her strength and her resolve, her ability to offer joy in the wake of so much sorrow. She plays her favorite songs from Alderaan when survivors visit her home; she has learned waltzes and polkas and even to just sway in time with the music. She lived through three years of war, three years of silence when the walls weren't being ripped apart by explosions, three years of pain and heartache and remembering music but never hearing it.

The silence had been broken when he asked her to dance. Because then she finally gave into her heart.

He brought joy back into her life in those months in space with music. He broke a week of claustrophobia and suffocating tension with a song in the galley and steps to a new dance. It was a Corellian shag, and the song was how he remembered his mother, and it was a dance he'd refused to do for twenty years. But he shared it with her and it became their dance, their song. It was a beautiful song that she loved so much. Her brother knows how special it is to her and he always offers a hand whenever the notes begin float through the lavish apartment. But she just smiles and shakes her head and asks for his hand some other time because this song, this dance, is reserved for someone special.

It is reserved for her son.

--

**Sullust, 3 ABY**

Luke Skywalker's firm embrace, comforting though it was, did little to ease the black abyss that had opened inside her soul since the _Millennium Falcon _touched down in that deceptively beautiful cloud city of Bespin. Leia Organa felt hollow, lightheaded, desolate. She felt as though she would never know joy again. She watched, choking on her own tears that she refused to let fall, as that same ship that had brought her to Bespin, that same ship that she had come to call home after three months of limping to its destination, disappeared into the solitude of hyperspace, Chewbacca and Lando Calrissian at the helm. Lando had promised her that they would find Han Solo and the Wookiee had echoed that confidence, but Leia still felt as though she would collapse under the weight of the terrible thought that she might never see the man she loved again.

Han and Leia spent three years engaged in verbal sparring matches that melted into three months of unrivaled ardor when they were faced with a long, boring trip and, more importantly, the feelings they both had been hiding for so long. Han inspired in Leia a passion she never knew existed in herself, and she discovered in him a tender, selfless soul like none other in the galaxy. They learned in those three months that they were equals, that they were predestined to fall in love, that they were soul mates. She had smiled bitterly, ruefully to herself when she first saw Darth Vader in stark contrast to that innocent banquet room on Bespin because she thought of all the time she'd wasted hating Han Solo when she could have been loving him instead. But now, searching out the transparisteel window of the Alliance's largest medical frigate, orbiting high above Sullust, she could only think that she would prefer the angriest of arguments with Han to the gaping hole that his cruel absence left in her heart.

"They'll find him, Leia," Luke said quietly, suddenly, as if sensing her pain. "I know they will."

She looked up at her dear friend, her brown eyes swimming with the tears she refused to let fall, and offered him the closest she could to a smile.

"Thank you, Luke."

The blond farmboy, a blue-eyed man that seemed to have aged twenty years since she'd last seen him on Hoth, kissed the top of her head gently and pulled her body closer to his, trying desperately to offer her strength through contact alone. Leia glanced at his artificial hand; covered in synthflesh, it looked as though it belonged on his body.

"How is your hand?"

Luke flexed his fingers and pondered the question for a moment.

"It's fine, actually. It feels just like the old one. The strangest thing is knowing that it isn't real."

She responded with a low "hmm" and turned her gaze to the viewport again, willing the _Falcon _to magically appear with Han on board. The dizziness seized her body again for a moment, and she leaned more heavily into Luke's secure grip.

"Princess?" The voice behind them was tentative and quiet. She turned slowly, biting back her annoyance when she saw the young human adjutant to Mon Mothma, clear in his hesitance to interrupt whatever scene was before him.

"Yes?" Her answer was icier than she had intended.

"I have a request from High Council. They seek an audience with you and," the aide's green eyes darted to Luke, "Commander Skywalker as well. They need a detailed recount of the events that led to your escape from Imperial capture."

Leia suppressed a groan. Meetings with High Council were not enjoyable, nevermind the fact that she was considered a member. They would, no doubt, be upset at her extended absence from duty.

"Very well. When am I scheduled?"

"I have a shuttle waiting to take you both to _Home One _right now."

She felt her jaw drop, but it was Luke that voiced his incredulousness first.

"Now?"

The ensign gulped.

"Yes, Commander Skywalker. Council feels that it would be better to have your account while the events are fresh in your mind."

"Exactly what I want to relive right now," the young Jedi said, sarcastically.

"Commander, I apologize but--"

Leia held up a hand, silencing the poor boy, who had obviously heard of the wrath that could come from her but was clearly not expecting resistance from the generally level-headed hero of Yavin.

"Nevermind, Ensign. We'll go now." She turned to Luke. "I just want to get this over with."

He offered her an understanding smile and they silently followed the terrified aide to the shuttle. The short trip to the largest Mon Calamari cruiser was wordless, as was the short trek to the chambers of Alliance High Command. The rotund room had the feel of being underwater, and in fact the walls were nothing more than an oversized aquarium. The effect was almost lazy. The light shimmered and danced off the soft ripples of the water, creating hypnotizing shadows that had lulled Leia into a daze on more than one occasion.

The members of High Command, most of them dear friends of Bail Organa's that had known Leia since she was an infant, were seated behind a large, round, pearlescent desk. Mon Mothma sat in the middle of the proceedings and offered two sponge-like chairs to Luke and Leia as they entered the chambers. Luke made a motion as though he was going to sit, but corrected himself immediately as Leia, rather defiantly, told them that she'd rather stand.

"Princess Leia," General Carlist Rieekan began, nodding to her with a sympathetic smile, "Commander Skywalker. As I'm sure you are both aware, you have been absent from the Alliance for the past three months."

"Yes, General," Leia said, tersely.

"This isn't a tribunal, Leia," Rieekan continued, quietly. "We are all very relieved that you're all right."

She raised her eyebrows and glanced at Luke, who seemed to be thinking the very same thing. 'All right' was a relative term.

"Commander Skywalker, our log shows that you left Hoth in an Alliance X-Wing fighter," Admiral Ackbar said, eager to move along. "Is that correct?"

"It is, Admiral."

"Where is that X-Wing now?"

"We had to leave it behind, sir. Our escape from Darth--" Luke faltered for a moment, "_Vader _was...rushed."

The Mon Calamari nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Where did you go, Commander?" General Jan Dodonna asked, suddenly.

"I left Hoth and went to the Dagobah system."

"Why?"

Luke glanced at Leia, who nodded for him to continue.

"To continue with my training as a Jedi Knight, sir."

"Is there a Jedi Master on Dagobah, Commander?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who?"

"For his safety, sir, I would rather not say."

Dodonna frowned, but Rieekan nodded.

"Very well, Commander," said Rieekan. "Princess, our last communique concerning your whereabouts was from Captain Solo."

Leia felt her stomach lurch as Rieekan said Han's name. She gripped Luke's arm instinctively, steadying herself against the sudden assault.

"Yes," she managed. "During the Battle of Hoth, he was trying to get me to my transport since the final evacuation codes had been ordered. Part of the base collapsed, cutting off our only route to my transport's hangar bay, so he got me off world on his private ship."

"Why," General Crix Madine asked, "did it take you three months to rendezvous?"

"We ran into a problem with they hyperdrive on the _Millennium Falcon _and were forced to hide from three Imperial star destroyers first in the crater of a large asteroid," she almost smiled at that memory, "and then attach to the hull of one of the destroyers until they dumped their garbage before making the jump to lightspeed. Without our own hyperdrive, the trip to Bespin, the closest safe port in the system, took three months."

Luke couldn't help but smile as Leia recounted Han's risky piloting, and even Leia felt the tug of a grin at the amazed faces staring back at her.

"You attached yourselves to the hull of a star destroyer?" Rieekan was floored.

"Yes."

"What happened at Bespin?" Mothma asked, breaking an incredulous silence that had settled over the room.

The dizziness returned to Leia once again and she contemplated sitting down, but instead she settled for tightening her grip on Luke's forearm.

"We think that," Luke began, hoping to save Leia from the agony of having to say it herself, "Vader may have hired bounty hunters to track the _Falcon. _You may know that Captain Solo has a price on his head from his days as a smuggler, which he gave up to serve the Alliance."

"We were tracked by a bounty hunter named Boba Fett," Leia continued quickly, wanting to get it over with. "He alerted Vader to our destination and Vader forced Cloud City's administrator, a friend of...Han's to turn us over to him. Vader has been actively searching for Luke since Yavin." She glanced at Luke and saw him blanch. "Vader tortured us as a means of attracting Luke. He knew that Luke could feel our pain through his abilities in the Force and would come to help us."

There was a collective intake of breath at Leia's admission that she had, once again, been tortured by Lord Vader. Her brown eyes met his blue eyes again in wordless connection. Neither of them wanted to talk about what had happened next.

"Obviously," Ackbar urged, "Commander Skywalker came to your aid?"

"Yes," said Leia, flatly.

"Then what happened?"

"Lord Vader...froze Han in carbonite and turned him over to the bounty hunter. Then he engaged Luke and cut his hand off. Luke's only way of escaping was to jump into a tunnel that dropped out beneath Cloud City."

There. She said it. She felt physically ill. Leia pressed a hand to her mouth against the nausea and leaned forward against the lightheadedness. She clutched tighter still to Luke's arm, and this time he turned to her, sliding a protective arm around her shoulders. He leaned in closely, whispering so only she could hear.

"You don't have to do this."

Leia shook her head.

"No, Luke. I do."

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as they straightened.

"Leia?" The look of concern on Rieekan's face rivaled Luke's. It was Rieekan, after all, that she considered a surrogate father. "Are you all right?"

The princess forced a tight smile.

"I'm fine. Just tired. We've had an exhausting few days, I'm sure you are all aware."

"Yes," Rieekan agreed. "Council, I believe we've kept them long enough."

"Wait a minute," Madine interjected. "What about Captain Solo and Chewbacca?"

"Princess Leia has already informed High Command of Captain Solo's fate," Luke said, quickly, laconically. "Chewbacca and Lando Calrissian, the baron administrator of Bespin, departed to search for him not long ago."

"Do you have any indication as to where he is being held captive?"

"Tatooine."

There was an extended pause and Luke glanced at Leia again. As the interrogation wore on, she had grown increasingly pale. He needed to get her out of there.

"Are we finished?"

"Just one more question, Commander," Mothma began. "Do you have any idea why Vader is targeting you?"

Luke opened his mouth to give an answer that he did not truly have, but in that moment, Leia collapsed into his arms, unconscious.

--

When she first opened her eyes and looked groggily around the stark white room, Leia was overcome with the fear that she was still on Bespin. She sat up quickly, terrified, searching for a way out. Her gaze traveled to her arm, where she found an IV line taped to the crook of her elbow. Leia began clawing at the needle immediately, desperate to get it out of her body, but as she did a hand closed over hers, squeezing her fingers gently. She looked up to see Luke sitting in the chair next to her bed, and then she realized finally that she was in the medical frigate.

"Glad you're back," Luke said with an apprehensive smile.

"Luke? What happened?" Her mouth was dry and the words scratched at her throat.

"You fainted. Don't you remember?"

She frowned, then shut her eyes tightly. She did remember.

"They shouldn't have done that, Leia. I'm amazed that I made it through."

"No. No, something's wrong, Luke. What happened to me?"

"Princess Leia," smiled Tuck Ello, a young Corellian medic and friendly acquaintance of hers, as he walked into the room. "Good to see you up again."

"Tuck," she said, unable to return the smile. "I don't know what happened. The last few days have been...eventful. I must have just worn myself out."

Tuck nodded and patted the hand Luke wasn't holding.

"Well, you were not well when you came in. You were extremely dehydrated, which is why we've run the IV line in order to get fluids back into your body. Luke said you've had a very stressful few days and haven't slept and that just made you feel that much worse. You have to keep your health up for the next few months and I want you to make sure you're getting enough fluids and laying off the work a little."

Leia glanced at Luke, who was regarding Tuck with a look of genuine surprise, even shock.

"Right, Tuck. I'll do what I can."

Tuck shook his head.

"I hope you do better than that, Princess. It's for your own good, and your baby's good, too."

A wave of nausea hit Leia as Tuck's words echoed in her mind and she wondered briefly if she was about to faint again.

"Baby?" She wasn't sure she even said it out loud. Luke's expression grew even more shocked as the looked from the medic to the beautiful, wide-eyed princess in the medical cot.

Tuck gave her a confused look.

"You don't know?"

Words had failed her, so she just shook her head. The medic's confusion morphed into surprise and then an expression of touching joy.

"I'm so sorry, Princess. I thought you knew. I guess congratulations are in order, then. You're pregnant."

--

Her quarters aboard _Home One _were a luxury in stark contrast to the severe bases on which she had been stationed before and they were a luxury that made her almost uncomfortable after spending three months on a tiny, run-down ship. She had two rooms to herself, one a bedroom and one a kitchen and living area, and a large refresher that included not only a water shower but a bathtub, something that she had not seen since Alderaan and had almost forgotten existed. The rooms, though clean and crisp and white, still had an organic feel about them, a feat only the Mon Calamari had been able to master. The transparisteel viewports were wide and round and gave her offered her a breathtaking view of the expanses of space that she once loved so much but now made her feel so small. The covers on her bed were thick and warm and soft and scratched her skin in a way that the threadbare sheets on the _Falcon's _bunks never did. It had been nearly three years since she remembered having so much space to herself, and she only felt suffocated.

Leia wandered slowly, absentmindedly into her sleeping chamber and lay down on the oversized bed, almost swallowed by the mass of throw pillows that covered the crisp sheets. Staring out the window into the swirling light of stars and the system they were orbiting, she lay a hand over her still-flat stomach and tried to will herself to feel the life growing inside of her. She still felt nothing but a sense of shock and disbelief. There was no discernible heartbeat beneath the pads of her fingers even though she knew that one was thumping steadily within the nurturing folds of her womb. A heartbeat, a child, two souls born into one.

Her baby.

Han's baby.

The tears threatened to spill from her eyes in that moment, but it was the same moment that Luke, who had accompanied her to her suite after she was discharged from the medical frigate, followed her into the bedroom. So instead she shut her eyes tightly and swallowed the lump that had formed painfully in her throat as her dear friend settled in the oversized chair near the bed and offered her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, Luke," she murmured, opening her eyes again to look at him.

"Of course. It's been a rough few days."

"Yes. It has."

They were silent for a moment and Leia noticed that Luke had dropped his gaze and had become incredibly focused on his new hand, flexing and closing it nervously. Leia sensed, as she suddenly became able to do ever since she heard him calling her from beneath the Cloud City, that he had a question that he wasn't quite ready to ask. She would have to give him a nudge.

"What is it, Luke?"

He looked up at her again with clear blue eyes.

"What are you going to do, Leia?"

"About what?"

"The baby," he said, hesitantly. "Are you going to keep it?"

Leia inhaled sharply and closed her eyes against the thought.

"Of course I am, Luke. It's Han's child."

A shadow crossed Luke's face. It might have been jealously, but she and Luke had come to an understanding about their relationship in the past few years, so she decided he was thinking about the repercussions of her pregnancy among members of the Alliance.

"Aren't you worried about how it might look?"

She shook her head and reached beneath the high collar of her dress, pulling out for the first time a thin chain necklace that held the most delicate washer Luke had ever seen. Silently, she slid the washer around the narrow third finger on her left hand, an intergalactic symbol of commitment in marriage, and then held it up for him to see.

"Ships' captains," Leia began quietly, looking not at Luke but towards the makeshift ring, "can perform legal ceremonies. Chewie officiated. We were going to have it documented when we got here and I was going to go with him to Tatooine. We wanted to have a celebration once he took care of things with Jabba."

"I didn't think Han was the type," Luke said, incredulous. It was news he had not expected.

Leia smiled.

"Me either."

"I didn't think you even liked him that much."

This time, she laughed, but it was tainted with her bitter regret towards the time she'd wasted pretending to hate Han.

"We'd been in love for almost three years and didn't know what to do about it. So we fought, and then we got stuck in the middle of nowhere for three months. It was either come clean or kill each other, but for those first few days I thought we were going to kill each other."

Luke, startled, envious though he was, also couldn't help but smile as he moved from the chair to sit beside her on the bed and take her hand with a gentle squeeze.

"Then I guess, Leia, that several congratulations are in order." He kissed her hand gently.

"Thank you, Luke."

She turned her head to stare through the viewport into the expanse of space once again, the shimmering light of the stars outside dancing across her porcelain face. The smile faded from her eyes, replaced with a crushing sadness that tore through the room. Luke rubbed the back of her hand as the tears returned again to her eyes and she refused to look at him. When she finally spoke, it was a hoarse whisper, as though she was choking on her words.

"Promise me you'll find him."

"I promise."


	2. Comings and Goings

C2: _Comings and Goings_

"_Reign of love; I can't let go; To the sea I offer; This heavy load..."_

Coldplay, "Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love"

--

"_Marry me, Princess."_

_She dropped the hydrospanner and it hit the deck plates with a deafening clatter that neither of them heard as she turned to face him with eyes wide and questioning and dark chocolate brown. He was not smiling, not smirking, she could not find a trace of sarcasm or humor in his hazel orbs, on his handsome features. No, he was sitting at the dejarik table, watching her as she organized his toolkit, a hobby she had taken up when she wasn't in his bed, and he was serious and insistent and the profound look on his face was almost frightening. She tried to smile, but her heart was pounding in her chest and distracting her and she was almost certain that she failed in her effort._

"_What?"_

_He stood up then and walked to her with a purposeful swagger, and then he took her face in his gentle, calloused hands. He stroked the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs and his sweet eyes burned into the deepest depths of her soul._

"_Marry me. I love you and you love me, and gods be damned, Leia, this is just _right."

_Her breath caught in her throat and she looked from his eyes, to his lips, to his eyes again, and then into his heart. She tried to breathe, tried to speak, but she had no words and no thoughts except that this was real and it was right, just as he said._

_He kissed her then, but his eyes did not close and neither did hers._

"_Leia." It was a hot whisper against her lips and he tasted like champagne and sugar and starlight._

"_Yes," she said, nodding her head, and a wide smile stretched across her lips. "Yes, I will marry you."_

_He grinned and he kissed her and then he pulled her close and buried his nose in her hair._

"_Right now," he murmured against the crown of her head. _

"_Marry you now?"_

"_Yes." She wriggled in his firm embrace and sought his eyes again and saw that he was still so serious. "Ships' captains can do it."_

"_You want to perform your own wedding ceremony?"_

_He smiled and shook his head._

"_No. Chewie."_

"_Chewie." She bit her bottom lip and the delight in her eyes melted into concern. "And then what, Han? We get married with Threepio as our witness? What about Jabba, Han? Have you--"_

_Still grinning, he placed a finger over her lips, silencing her._

"_You ask too many questions, Princess."_

"_But--"_

"_Shh," he interrupted, squaring his shoulders. "Answer this, Leia: Do you love me?"_

_She nodded. He broke away from her and crouched over the toolkit she had just been organizing. She watched him as he rifled through its contents, spilling them noisily onto the floor and undoing all the work she had done, and after a moment he turned back to her, holding two mismatched washers in his palm._

"_Good. And I love you."_

"_Is that all that really matters?"_

_He took her hand in his and began leading her to the cockpit._

"_Yes."_

"_Oh," she said simply, and she could not stop the smile that spread across her face._

"_Chewie," he called as they walked through the corridor. "Chewie!"_

_The Wookiee growled and met them in the hallway, followed closely by See-Threepio._

"_Chewie." His grin matched hers and it warmed her heart and her mind and her soul. "We need you to do something for us."_

_He needed no further explanation. He gave a soft roar that she understood to mean 'Well it's about time,' and patted them both on the shoulder and the four of them made their way back into the galley._

_As a little girl, she never dreamed much of princes or castles or happy endings, and maybe that was because she was a princess and she grew up in a castle and her father raised her to keep her head out of the clouds. So she never read the children's books, but she did still have one favorite, and at the very end the princess ran away with the pirate. And maybe she never dreamed much of princes or castles, but she couldn't help but want a happy ending, and besides, she was already in space, far, far above the clouds._

_The Princess and the Pirate stood before the Wookiee, who officiated, and the Droid, who witnessed, and their fingers were twisted and tangled together and he could not take his eyes off her and she could not take hers off him and neither of them could remove the smiles on their faces if they tried. And maybe it felt like a fairy tale, but it was better because it was real and it was true and they were beautiful and so, so alive. And maybe it was unceremonious and impromptu, and he had grease stains on his pants and she was wearing his old dress shirt, but he had never been one for ceremony and neither had she, so it was perfect._

_The washers that he had found slid perfectly onto their respective fingers and she loved how right the little band of metal felt. 'You're a lucky man, Cub,' Chewie growled, 'so go ahead and kiss her,' and he did, and everything else in the galaxy melted away as she became his wife and suddenly only he and she existed anymore. Then they all had a glass of whiskey because there was no champagne and let the Wookiee scoop them into a bone-crushing hug and considered turning off Threepio the twelfth time he spouted off a 'Congratulations.' _

_Finally, they danced. He played their song, that first song he had put on after a tense week in close quarters, the song that had brought her out of herself, the song that opened her heart to him at last. They stepped to and fro, side to side, front and back. He twirled her, lifted her off her feet and spun her around, and kissed her as he set her down, giddy, drunk on laughter and love. They danced to a slow simmering beat, bodies flush, her head tucked neatly, perfectly, beneath his chin, two pieces of a wide and wonderful puzzle. And then he carried her back to his cabin, though it was really their cabin now, and he laid her down gently, and they made love that was sweeter and more passionate than any of the love they had made before. _

_They raced along, the Princess and the Pirate, legs and arms and fingers and souls tangled and twisted and inseparable, through space dust and starlight and shuddering pleasure, towards an ending that neither of them could predict or cared to know, trusting that the galaxy could open wide and swallow them whole and it wouldn't matter because they had their love and their ecstasy and for now that was enough. That night, his soul found hers and they and fused into one and settled easily, safely, somewhere deep within her, and new life began, and it continued to grow and flourish, even as she watched him be lowered into the carbon freezing chamber and felt her soul shatter into a million unrecognizable pieces._

--

She was late again, the fourth time in the past ten days. It was that much more noticeable, perhaps, because she had always been one for punctuality and had a habit of arriving at her meetings and Senate hearings and royal appointments several minutes early. Ten weeks into her pregnancy, however, Leia had become well-acquainted with the fact that the term "morning sickness" was a misnomer at its very best. She was sick all the time, morning, noon, dead of night, and she was struggling to keep it a secret. Until now, she had managed to still make it to her shifts and meetings right on time, not late although very noticeably not early, but her nausea had only gotten worse in the past two weeks and caused her to miss the first ten minutes of two shifts and two meetings with High Command.

Today she was late for a meeting with Mon Mothma, a woman who, though Leia had known her since she was a small child, intimidated her to no end. Of course, Leia was raised a politician and would never let it show just how much another intimidated her, but Mon had eyes that seemed to look past her body and into her soul in a way that Luke or Vader or Han had never been able to do before. The older woman placed punctuality on a pedestal along with honor and duty and had already spoken to her once this week about Leia's newfound habit of lagging. Simply put, Mon Mothma was perhaps the last person in the galaxy Leia wanted to keep waiting, and yet she already had, five minutes late by the time she reached the Supreme Commander's office.

Leia nodded to the ensign tentatively when she arrived, the same young boy who had delivered the unpleasant news to her and Luke when they first arrived from Bespin that they were expected by High Council.

"It's Pike, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the ensign confirmed, nervously. "She said you can go on in when you got here."

She smiled and swallowed against a sudden wave of nausea that she suspected might have nothing to do with her pregnancy as the ensign palmed the door open and she made her way into Mon Mothma's office. The office, much like Leia's own office and Command Chambers, was tranquil and reminded her of an aquarium. Mothma sat behind a large, organized desk, pouring over a datapad, and Leia noticed as she entered, much to her relief, that Rieekan was seated in one of the two chairs opposite the Supreme Commander.

Mothma glanced up from her reading as Rieekan stood to greet her. Leia offered him a tight smile and gave a short bow to Mothma before she took her own seat.

"My sincerest apologies to you both, Supreme Commander, General. It was not my intention to keep you waiting."

Mothma pursed her lips as though she were chewing over Leia's apology, but Rieekan gave her a gentle smile.

"It's no problem, Princess. I know you've been feeling a bit under the weather recently."

Leia nodded even as she felt her cheeks grow warm.

"I'm starting to feel much better, actually," she said quickly, hoping that her dear friend did not dwell any longer on her lingering illness. "I understand that there is a rumor concerning the construction of a new Death Star?"

"Yes, Leia. We were hoping to--"

"Actually, Carlist," Mothma interrupted coldly with a wave of her hand, surprising them both, "there is something I would like to discuss before we continue." She turned to face Leia and the younger woman felt paralyzed beneath her grave stare. "Princess Leia, since you returned to us ten weeks ago, you have been less than...devoted to your duties to the Alliance. I understand that you faced a severe trauma during your time away from us, but I had assumed we have offered to you the resources necessary to help you _cope_." Her last word reeked of disdain.

Leia was certain that she failed in her attempt to conceal the shock on her face and she wondered for a moment if her expression mirrored Rieekan's. Suddenly, twenty-three years of diplomatic training had failed her, blindsided by Mothma's scathing comment.

"Well, ah, yes, and I have made use of Alliance facilities and they have been very helpful. I apologize, Mon, but I truly haven't been feeling well these past few weeks."

Mothma frowned.

"Your doctor says you haven't been sleeping."

Leia felt her jaw drop and this time she did not bother to conceal her anger and astonishment.

"You spoke with my doctor?" It was an appalled hiss, but her voice still cracked.

"Mon, this is very much a breach in confidentiality--" Rieekan began, but again she silenced him.

"I didn't break any rules, Carlist, and I can assure you, Leia, that your doctor revealed nothing more of your health than that. Perhaps that it would be prudent for you to look into medication to help you get back on a standard sleep cycle."

Instinctively, Leia's hand flew to her stomach.

"I can't take a pill," she whispered. Then, she looked up, meeting Mothma's eyes squarely. "I'm fine."

"Maybe it would be best, Lelila," Rieekan pressed, softly, "if you took a few days off to rest. After all, you dove right into your work when you returned from Bespin."

"Thank you, Carlist," Leia said with a short shake of her head, "but that won't be necessary. I'll save those days for when the time comes for Captain Solo's rescue effort."

Mothma's brow furrowed further and she made a disapproving noise, disguised by the clearing of her throat. Leia shot her a look usually reserved for Sith Lords and Imperial Grand Moffs and dared the older woman to speak out against Han. She dared.

"Princess, surely you can't be thinking of taking another leave. I understand that you're fond of Captain Solo, but you need to realize that your priorities lie with the Alliance."

"Captain Solo has been a great asset to our cause over the past three years, Mon." Rieekan came to Han's aid before Leia's livid brain had even begun to form words. "He was instrumental to our win at Yavin and has gone above and beyond the call of most commissioned officers to serve us, including saving Princess Leia's life on several occasions. He has been as important to us as Leia or Commander Skywalker, and I believe that it would be in our very best interests to remember as much."

Leia gave Rieekan an appreciative glance and he nodded at her before they both turned back to Mothma. It was the Supreme Commander's turn to look incredulous, but it did not last long.

"My apologies, Carlist. I never meant to imply that Captain Solo wasn't important to the Alliance, although he never officially enlisted. I just believe that it is crucial that Leia remembers not to waste too much of her time daydreaming about smugglers when she has such a mind for political strategy."

At last, words returned to Leia.

"With due respect, Mon," she began, struggling to keep the angry tremble from her voice, "I cannot sit here any longer if you are going to continue to demean my husband." She let the last word hang in the air, satisfied that she had officially shocked her captive audience.

"Husband?" It was Rieekan who spoke first, his voice barely a whisper, but he could not hide the smile in his eyes. Leia nodded at him, a promise to admit everything soon, and turned her attention back to a still-shocked Supreme Commander.

"Husband," Leia said quietly, "and father of my child."

The smile spread from Rieekan's eyes to his face as he reached over and grabbed Leia's hand.

"You're pregnant? Oh, Lelila, that's wonderful! Congratulations."

Leia couldn't help but grin as well, careful to avoid Mothma's vexed stare.

"Thank you, Carlist. It was a surprise, but I really couldn't be happier." She finally turned back to Mothma, meeting the older woman's gaze levelly. "I have no intention of resigning my duty to the Alliance, Mon, I assure you. I hope very much that my child will be raised in a galaxy that enjoys the liberties of democracy and it I will do everything I possibly can to ensure that happens."

"Leia," Mothma began, "are you sure this is wise? Your position has always been an incredible asset."

"If you are implying, Mon, that you would prefer I remain unattached until it is politically advantageous, I hope that you will change your mind. It is true that my father's marriage was one of political gain, but both he and my mother had different ideas for me. I am fighting for freedom, not power, and I truly hope that you value my talents as an ambassador and a soldier more than my ability to be married off in exchange for a few starships." Leia's voice was warm but firm, a tone that she had perfected over two years on the Senate floor, and it indicated that the matter was no longer up for discussion.

A heavy silence fell over the room as Leia finished, locked in a staring contest with the woman she considered to be her mentor. For a moment, Leia worried that she might have gone too far, so she added a quiet 'With all due respect' for good measure. Her words brought Mothma out of whatever trance she had been in, and the older woman nodded and gave a wan but genuine smile, impressed with the princess' unerring debate skills.

"Very well," she said, "I understand. And congratulations, Leia."

"Thank you."

"Have you planned on making an announcement?" Rieekan asked, finally breaking all the tension in the office.

Leia shook her head.

"Not yet. I'm still early on, and I was hoping that Han would be back before it became unavoidable, because he doesn't know yet. Obviously, I appreciate your discretion. Only Commander Skywalker and my medic, Tuck Ello, are aware."

"Okay," Rieekan agreed, still smiling, and Leia found so much comfort in his excitement. She knew he was already imagining spoiling a child and being called 'Grandpapa.' "It's business as usual, then."

"Right," said Leia, and like that she had changed the subject. "I was hoping to learn more about this report about a new Death Star."

"The report came in during third shift yesterday," Mothma said, slipping effortlessly back into the role of Supreme Commander as if the previous conversation had never occurred. "It was an interrupted transmission from an anonymous source, but the transmit code was Bothan."

"They wouldn't be building a new Death Star near the Bothan System," Rieekan said with a frown. "It's too central."

"Yes," agreed Leia, "but the system is rich in ore deposits that the Empire would be happy to exploit. I have a Bothan contact, Olwen Thuy'la."

"The junior senator?" Mothma asked.

Leia nodded as Rieekan made a note on his datapad.

"I'm on it," said the general.

--

By the time Luke Skywalker found an exhausted Princess Leia in her office, there was only an hour before shift change and lights out. She had missed dinner and a briefing, and he was starting to get worried. He walked in tentatively, bearing a plate of fruit and cheese, and she offered him a seat with a weary wave of her hand.

"You look terrible," Luke said as he set the plate in front of her computer terminal. Leia made an exasperated face.

"Thanks."

He grinned and then gave her his best authoritative look.

"Hey, Tuck warned that you should be eating and resting. If I have to result to insulting your pride until you start doing what he says, I will."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm almost done here." She signed, resignedly, and picked up a piece of cheese.

"What are you working on?"

Leia slid her datapad across the desk as she took a bite of food.

"Effects of carbon hibernation on the human body."

Luke studied the pad for a moment.

"Dehydration, decrease in body temperature, nausea, temporary blindness...Those don't sound fun but they do sound treatable."

She nodded.

"Have you heard anything from Chewie or Lando?"

"No." For a moment, Leia looked past Luke and out the window, lost in her thoughts and in the stars, and he let her be quiet. She was growing increasingly frustrated by the lack of news coming out of Tatooine, and each day she heard nothing was a day that her heart broke a little more. Luke knew how much she was hurting; he could feel her pain radiating through the Force. But he could not help but be impressed with the way Leia concealed her heartache from everyone, the way she went through each day as though she had no idea what it meant to be a widow or a single mother or the last princess of a planet that no longer existed.

"He's alive, Luke," she said with quiet determination, finally looking at her friend again.

He nodded in agreement.

"I know."

Leia brought a hand to her still-flat stomach and Luke smiled at the gentle reminder that they were not alone in her office. He was endearingly thrilled at the idea of playing surrogate uncle and had even given the baby a nickname, one of which he was certain Uncle Chewie would approve.

"How is Cub today?"

"Cub's still making it difficult for his mother to get to anything on time."

"That sounds like Han's child."

Leia chuckled.

"I guess I'm in for it, then." She paused for a moment. "I told Carlist and Mon today."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"So early?"

"Well, Carlist has been on the brink of guessing for at least three weeks, and I was about to tell him anyway. But we were in a meeting with Mon and she started saying all these frustrating things about Han. So I decided to let her know exactly who she was talking about."

"Oh wow. How'd she take that?"

"She's disappointed that she can't marry me off in a few years when our credits dry up." Leia sighed and shook her head. "That's an attitude that scares me, Luke. Consolidation of power. It's something I thought we were trying to fight."

"Hmm."

"Besides, that's not something my father would have wanted for me." She turned to the viewport again and missed the shadow that crossed Luke's face as she said 'father.' "He always wanted me to be happy."

"Leia, you shouldn't worry about what Mon thinks, or anyone else in High Command, or the rest of the galaxy for that matter. You're doing what's right."

Luke sought her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. Smiling, she returned the pressure, searching his eyes. Usually, Luke's eyes were clear blue and vibrant, but in the weeks since Bespin they had become a hardened, steely gray.

"What's going on with you, Luke?"

He sighed.

"I have to go away. Back to Dagobah. That's what I came to tell you tonight."

"When?"

"My clearance is for 0400. Too early for you to come out and say goodbye," he added, sternly.

Leia rolled her eyes and gave him a mock salute, but she let him continue.

"I left in the middle of my training and I promised Master Yoda I'd be back."

"Why have you stayed away for so long?"

He smiled.

"I wanted to make sure you and Cub were okay."

"We're fine, Luke. I'm fine."

"I know. That's why I'm leaving now. I have comm contact when the time comes for Han's rescue. And I promise I'll be back before Cub arrives."

"I'm holding you to that, Luke. Cub wants you to be here."

"I wouldn't miss it for all the stars in the galaxy."


	3. Revelations

C3: _Revelations_

"_You are the sun gone down; You are the sky; You are the moon rushed round; You are goodbye; You are good, goodbye..."_

Holly Conlan, "You Are Goodbye"

--

"You're sad."

The words were warm against the base of her neck, murmured and lost into her unbound hair. She felt him kiss the soft skin, his lips a velvet touch, and he urged her to open her eyes with the slightest nibble of her earlobe.

"I miss you."

She turned her head to catch his lips in hers for a lingering kiss. He reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closely as he gathered the thick covers around them, cocooning them in a cloud of linen and starlight, of dreams and seduction.

"I miss you, too," he whispered, kissing her bare collarbone. His hand wandered down her shoulder, down her arm, a featherlight touch that tickled and soothed her, and settled over the curve that had announced its presence in her belly. They were still in the silence for a moment, and she watched him in the swirling silver starlight that danced across his face and illuminated his eyes, hazel orbs drowning in wonder and awe. His own gaze drifted from her lips to her eyes and a lazy, crooked smile, the one she loved oh so much, appeared at the corners of his sweet mouth.

"I can feel him now," she breathed, placing her own hand on top of his, the pads of his fingers applying tentative pressure to the soft skin guarding her womb. "Can you?"

"I want to." Now his words were mournful and her face fell as he said them.

"I know."

"He moves when you sing to him. Our song is his favorite."

"It's my favorite, too."

He pressed his lips against hers again in the lightest of kisses.

"And it's mine," he assured her, still against her mouth.

She looked up at him, sadly, searching his eyes for a sign, a clue, anything to assure her that he was truly there.

"Come back to us. Where are you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you dead?"

"I don't think so."

She found little comfort in that.

"Then come home." Her voice was soft and imploring.

He kissed her forehead.

"I will soon, I promise. I love you."

"I know."

"Here," he murmured against her ear again, drawing her closer still, warming her soul with the strong feel of his arms around her body and his legs entwined with her own. "I want to stay a while."

She drifted into oblivion once more, savoring the security of his arms that she knew so well and the beat of his heart that she had memorized during the nights they had spent together and the soft pattern of his breath that mirrored her own, and she said silent prayers to the goddess and the angels and the Force to bring him back to her soon.

--

The Dune Sea of Tatooine was vast. It was wide and hot, and everything was a blinding, sickening yellow, from the expanse of sand to the sky that reflected it. Or, perhaps it was the other way around; perhaps it was the sand that reflected the scalding yellow of the sun. It was a desolate place, devoid of all life and dangerous, deathly dangerous, to any life that dared to enter. There were no points of bearing and the sea was the same in every direction, a beautiful, seductive, poisonous method of capturing and claiming fools that dared to enter and could find no way out.

Even the Tusken Raiders, notorious for their ability to survive in extremes, to live for months without water, to find sustenance in sun-bleached remains, did not dare enter the Dune Sea, lest the sands open wide and swallow them whole. No, the Dune Dea was cursed, and the Dune Sea was godsforsaken. It was a place where no sentient soul should ever venture.

And it was a place where Lando Calrissian and Chewbacca found themselves, standing over the smoldering remains of two starships, screaming in echoless mourning across the deaf grains of sand.

Wookiee and Baron Administrator had arrived on Tatooine a scant five days after the fiasco at Bespin, determined to intercept Boba Fett before he delivered Han to Jabba Hutt. Luke had given them the coordinates of Ben Kenobi's long-abandoned bastion, where they had been able to land and conceal the easily identifiable _Falcon. _They had spent a day gathering themselves before deciding the best course of action would be to have Lando infiltrate the crimelord's palace while Chewie, who had a bounty of his own to contend with, stayed in the shadows of Mos Eisley, gathering what information he could about Fett's whereabouts. 

A disguised Lando had gotten his job as a palace guard easily, though it involved the rather unsavory business of starting a fight in the main audience chamber and framing an existing but rather weak Rodian guard. Lando shot him and claimed the Rodian was trying to harm Jabba, allowing the vile gangster to forge in him an immediate trust and a job offer for the now-vacant position. The former Baron Administrator accepted swiftly and was shown to his new quarters, where he discovered a new level of stench. Jabba's palace was home to all sorts of vermin, to vile and disgusting and debatably sentient creatures, and the smell that they created seeped into Lando's clothes, his skin, and he knew it would be days after he left the palace for good before he could finally wash it all out.

The plan was relatively simple: they would stay inconspicuous. Lando would communicate with Chewie once a week, when he had his night off in Mos Eisley. And they would rescue Han when Fett finally arrived, hopefully soon, hopefully without having to involve Luke or Leia.

Lando was desperate to rescue his old friend. He wanted redemption, of course, but he cared more about his friends. If Vader hadn't lied to him on Bespin, if he'd known what fate was going to befall Han, he never would have agreed to turn them in. But something inside of him, maybe his heart, maybe his pride, had broken in that carbon chamber when he watch Han and Leia in what could have been those last desperate moments of the smuggler's life. The princess loved him, and Han loved her, and the depths of pain etched on Leia's face as Han was lowered into the chamber were all Lando needed to make the right decision. And later, on the flight to Tatooine, Chewie revealed to him what he never thought he'd hear: Han was married, and he was married to that beautiful, fiery princess.

He would return Han to his wife, he resolved then, if it was the last thing he ever did. And it was this resolve that he took with him into the palace, that allowed him to endure the smell of the palace and the horrors he witnessed daily. He kept quiet, careful vigil. He listened and observed and learned dark secrets about some of the most despicable beings in the galaxy. And he waited, day after day after horrible day, for Boba Fett to finally arrive.

When he heard the news, his world stopped. Six careful months of planning and observation were destroyed when Lando he ran from the palace, pushing past the stout Gammorrean guards that made feeble attempts to stop him. His head was swimming. He couldn't believe it.

Zan Onlyn, one of the most notorious bounty hunters in Jabba's employ and resident gossip monger, had come in with the news that the _Slave I _had been engaged in gun battle with a rival bounty hunter just outside the atmosphere, and both ships had gone down in flames somewhere in the Dune Sea. There were no survivors, he'd said, and that included Solo.

Wookiee and Baron Administrator wasted no time. They refused to believe that Han had not survived the crash. Carbonite was virtually indestructible, and if Fett had been wise enough to leave the former smuggler in his prison of hibernation, Solo could have surely been well-enough protected to make it out completely unscathed. He and Chewbacca were in the _Falcon _and flying low over the Dune Sea within two hours, desperate to find something, anything, that promised that Han was still alive.

Finally, the ship's scanners registered durasteel and an evil, black circumference began to appear on the horizon. Chewie landed quickly, and they were both off the ship before the ramp was flush against the dunes. They sifted through the rubble, identified the charred hatch of _Slave I _and uncovered what looked to be a small chunk of Mandolorian body armor. The heat from the flames had melted the sand and a hard, glassy river settled through and around the wreckage. Lando mused, bitterly, that the scene could have, if it were perhaps anything else, been a work of art. The sooty black against the vibrant white-yellow sand was a combination unlike any other.

The two searched the rubble for hours until the heat of the two suns threatened to consume them and darkness tugged at the corners of their eyes from dehydration. They searched, hoping, praying, believing that he would be there, safe, among the debris, the gemstone within the rough, the phoenix from the flame.

But there was no solid block of carbonite.

Han Solo was gone.

--

The evening after Luke left for Dagobah, Han began to visit Leia in her dreams. He came every night, drifting into her thoughts, kissing her, caressing her, whispering in her ear, sensations so real she could feel them. She awoke in the mornings, often nauseous, alone, her arms tingling as though she had just been released from Han's gentle embrace. His visits were sweet and maddening, but they provided her with enormous comfort. She was so lonely without Luke, though Rieekan was a constant fatherly presence and Mon Mothma, a mother herself and her mentor from a young age, had assumed an almost motherly role.

Two mornings after Leia revealed her pregnancy to the Supreme Commander, Mon Mothma arrived at her quarters with a fragrant root native to Chandrila. She called it ginger, and she showed Leia how to grate the root and steep it in hot water, making a tea that served as a genius cure for Leia's overwhelming nausea. When Leia was sixteen weeks along and felt an unnerving flutter in her belly, it was Mothma that gave her the exciting news that she was feeling Cub move for the first time. And Mothma, like Rieekan, had adopted Luke's nickname for Leia's baby, excited that Cub would soon represent for the Alliance a new generation of galactic peace and freedom.

Now at twenty-six weeks along and already more than halfway through her pregnancy, Leia's white robes were beginning to betray the growing bump at her midriff, but she had yet to reveal anything about her condition to anyone other than Mothma, Rieekan, Luke, and Tuck. There were rumors, she knew, whispers among soldiers and High Command alike, but without any word from Tatooine, she wasn't at all interested in revealing her relationship with Han or her pregnancy until she knew for sure if he would be returned to her before Cub's birth. Wedge Antilles, Hobbie Kilvian, and Wes Janson, members Rogue Squadron and dear friends of Luke's and, really by default, of Han and Leia's, sought her company whenever she chose to venture into the mess with the soldiers. They suspected, she knew, but, in a moment of clarity for the notorious pranksters, were wise enough to say nothing. They entertained her with stories of Luke and Han, as if they had made it their personal mission to keep her spirits high in the absence of the two men that had made her life whole for nearly four years.

The loss at Hoth had been crippling for Alliance morale, though in total they only lost thirty fighters. The entire Alliance had not been stationed on the ice planet, a risky precaution, they reasoned, that paid off in the end. Being scattered as they were meant that the Imperial attack on Echo Base was not as damaging as it could have been. And now they were gathered, the entire fleet, in orbit around Sullust, one of the furthest corners of the galaxy, and there was little for them to do but plan and wait. Battles had been put on hold as the Alliance was effectively in hiding, a strategy that High Command reasoned would lure the Empire into a false sense of security, thinking it had crushed the entire Rebellion at Hoth.

Though in hiding, the Alliance was anything but crushed and anything but dormant. Spies were everywhere, inconspicuous to the Empire. High Command was busy decoding information and planning attack schemes. The pilots were busy preparing ships and weapons for eventual battle, a battle that, they hoped, would spell certain doom for the Empire. Leia had not been sent on any of her usual recruitment missions since her return from Bespin, owing mostly to Mothma's influence in High Command. Instead, she spent the majority of her time in strategy with Rieekan, planning the Alliance's next move. The information from their spies was often routed to her office first, and it was she and Rieekan who would decode and make the report to High Command.

Leia was in her office, pouring over the schematics of the Fondor shipyards on her computer terminal, one hand resting lightly on her belly, when Rieekan entered. The general sealed the door behind him and was across the room in an instant, handing her a tiny datachip that she immediately plugged into her terminal.

"What is this?" she asked as the computer decoded the readouts.

"News from Bothawui," Rieekan stated, grimly. " Olwen Thuy'la is dead."

"What?" Her eyes were wide, incredulous. "How?"

"Grand Moff Azar suspected Bothan involvement in our cause. He ordered the garrison to barricade three schools, two hospitals, a shopping center, and the capitol, but no one would give up the information so the Imperials burned them all to the ground."

Leia felt a wave of nausea wash over her body that had nothing to do with her pregnancy.

"How many?"

Rieekan sighed and splayed his hands in front of him in a helpless gesture as he sank down in the conform chair next to Leia's desk.

"50,000, maybe more. The HoloNet is spinning it as Rebel terrorism, of course."

"Gods." She shut her eyes tightly for a moment against the image of thousands of Bothans burning alive. All of those lives, innocent men, women. Innocent children. Leia wrapped her arms protectively around Cub, hugging her baby into her in a silent vow of protection.

"We'll win the war, Lelila," Rieekan said gently, placing one hand over belly as well. She opened her eyes to his reassuring gaze. "Cub won't grow up in a galaxy ruled by evil."

Cub stirred a little within Leia at Rieekan's words, and both Alderaani grinned brilliantly.

"See? Even Cub thinks so."

"I hope you're right, Carlist," Leia said with a sigh, and Rieekan nodded towards the computer terminal, which had loaded the data and begun to beep quietly.

"Thuy'la was able to get this to us before they were attacked."

She turned to her terminal and gasped as she began to scroll through the data on screen. A very familiar set of prints was displayed before her.

"Another Death Star," she breathed.

"Look." Rieekan pointed at the screen. "Endor."

Leia saved the data to her terminal and then removed the chip, handing it over to Rieekan as her comlink began to chime.

"Take this to High Command right now." Rieekan took the chip and stood as she answered her call. "Organa." She paused for a moment, then a wide smile crossed her face. "Thank you."

Leia shut off the comlink and stood to accompany Rieekan out of the office.

"Luke's back. I'm going to meet him in the hangar bay and we'll both be in shortly."

--

Leia could barely contain her excitement as Luke climbed out of his X-Wing and jogged over to her, enveloping her into a warm hug.

"I missed you, Luke," she said as he pulled back to study her. She grinned, but then her smile faded as she noticed a look of near-confusion in Luke's wide blue eyes. "What is it?"

Luke offered her an unconvincing smile.

"Look at you. Is Cub still a secret?"

Leia shrugged.

"Let them talk. Something's going on with you," she said, hooking an arm in his and leading him out of the bay. "Tell me."

With a sigh, he nodded.

"Can we go to your quarters and talk?"

Leia furrowed her brow.

"Yes. High Command is in an emergency meeting right now and we need to join them, but I get the feeling they're going to be in there for a while. We just got some huge news."

"Imperial?" Luke murmured as he pressed the button for the lift.

"What else?" Leia confirmed, wearily. The door to the lift closed around them, leaving them alone and away from prying ears. "It's a new Death Star."

"Oh," he said, as if that summed it all up, and in reality, it did. They were quiet for a moment before Luke spoke again. "How are you and Cub?"

"Fine. The nausea's gone and Cub is moving now. Carlist and Mon have been truly supportive, which is nice." She glanced at Luke, pointedly. "Your Rogue friends have been great, but I think they're trying to see if they've won a bet."

Luke grinned at that, a genuine smile.

"And," she added with a sigh, placing a hand on her belly, "we miss daddy. There's been no word from Tatooine."

Her last sentence hung in the air as the lift chimed past another floor. Luke knew that the lack of news from Chewie and Lando had to be wearing on Leia, but she had not yet let him know how frustrating it was.

"Do you believe, Luke," Leia ventured after a moment, hesitantly, "that dreams can be...more than that?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, placing a hand on her back as they stepped out of the lift and made their way to her quarters.

"Han...Han has been, well I guess you could say he's been visiting me in my dreams every night since you left. They're so real, Luke. It's like he's there and I'm telling him all about Cub and what's been going on in my day, and..." she trailed off as she palmed open the door to her quarters, aware of how ridiculous she sounded. A glance up at Luke revealed that he was studying her with some alarm and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Oh, Luke, I'm sorry, this must sound so crazy."

"No," Luke said slowly, sinking down next to her on her conform couch. "No, it doesn't. If it were anyone else, Leia, it might, but you..."

Leia frowned as Luke considered his next words.

"Why me?"

He took her hand and studied her imploringly.

"I've been visited in my dreams before, too, Leia, and it happens, I think, because of the Force. Your mind is more open to the life around you and things become possible that wouldn't be at all if you were Force-blind."

"Luke, I really don't think that I...I don't...what exactly are you saying?"

He sighed and she got the very distinct feeling that what he was about to say would be painful for them both.

"On Bespin, when I fought Vader, he told me...he told me that he was my father."

Leia could not stop the look of horror that crossed her face and she felt her body grow cold.

"Oh, Luke, that can't be true."

"I hoped so too, but when I went back to Dagobah, Master Yoda told me that it was." He paused for a moment, searching her eyes, willing her to be open to what he was about to reveal. "Yoda died before he told me any more, but I was visited by Obi-Wan's spirit, which has happened before. He told me that Vader was indeed my father, and that before he became Vader he was a great Jedi named Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, he said, secretly married a senator from Naboo named Padmé Amidala."

The horror on Leia's face twisted to confusion and suddenly something that looked like understanding began to tug at the corners of her eyes. Almost instinctively, as if she were protecting her child from the words Luke was preparing to say, she placed her free hand over her stomach. Luke responded by applying reassuring pressure to the hand he was holding, and Leia could not look away.

"She was pregnant when Anakin turned, and gave birth to twins without his knowledge. A boy and a girl."

"Luke." His name fell from her lips in a tense gasp.

"Obi-Wan said Padmé was dying as she gave birth, but she lived long enough to name her children Luke and Leia."

Leia shook her head slowly.

"Luke. Not Vader."

"Vader, Leia, is not our father." His eyes were firm, and he also lay a hand over his sister's stomach, feeling Cub moving around, perceptive to Leia's turmoil. "He's not. We are the children of a great Jedi and a compassionate man, not what he became."

"Luke," she said again, finally breaking her hold on his eyes. "I can't. Not..." Leia looked back at him and shrugged, defeated. "Not now. Please. I can't."

He offered her a wan smile and kissed her forehead.

"Okay. I understand. Not now."

Leia was reeling and she stared past her brother for a long moment, oblivious to everything around her. It was only when Luke moved to give her a moment that she squeezed his hand, asking him to sit with her still.

"You're my brother." It was a mystified statement, but there was almost a smile in her eyes. He nodded, grinning slowly. "Luke, somehow...I've always known." Finally, she began to smile. "You're really Cub's uncle, then."

"Yes," Luke said, happily, "I am."

--

Leia did not expect to get any sleep after Luke revealed to her the joyous news of their true relationship and the terrible news of their genetics, but the demands of the Rebellion, coupled with the demands Cub placed on her body, overruled the wheels in her mind and she fell asleep almost as soon as she hit the pillow that night. Han was with her again. They were on her conform couch, spooning together as Han's hands rested over Cub, and she was telling him about Luke and Vader, working through all the events of the day, when their conversation was interrupted by a persistent chime. Annoyed, Leia disentangled herself from her husband's embrace and they both began to scour the quarters in search of the offending sound. She turned to Han, arms wide in a helpless gesture when neither of them could locate the source, and watched as he faded away and she was enveloped by darkness and starlight.

She was awake, she realized, alone in her quarters, and her comlink was chiming persistently. Grumbling, Leia squinted at the chrono on the opposite wall, startled as the blue glow registered 0312. She found the comm in the darkness and thumbed it on with a sigh.

"Organa," she mumbled, hoping the gravelly quality of her voice would inspire whoever had the audacity to call her at this hour would think twice before doing so again.

"Leia, it's Luke." His voice betrayed a hint of unease.

She sat up as quickly as she could.

"Luke? What is it?"

"I'm coming to meet you. The bridge just reported that the _Falcon _has requested clearance."

Leia felt her heart quicken dangerously as she dropped the comlink. She was out of bed in a moment, throwing on one of her senatorial robes with trembling fingers and pulling her hair back into a loose braid that fell over her left shoulder. She had just donned her white house shoes when Luke chimed the door.

"When are they landing?" she asked without preamble as she opened the door and made a beeline for the lift.

"Now," Luke said, matching her fast pace. "You didn't know about this?"

Leia programmed the lift for the hangar bay and it slowly occurred to her that she should be concerned that she was not informed about the arrival from Tatooine. Luke noticed the shock that registered on her features in the mirrored panes of the lift and put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

"Leia-"

"I was just with him, Luke." She met his eyes in their reflection and hoped that her voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. "Just now. We were talking about you and-"

She stopped abruptly as she realized that tears were forming in her eyes. Leaning in to his embrace, she swallowed hard against the sudden lump that had formed in her throat.

"We'll get him back, Leia," Luke promised as the lift doors opened to the hangar bay, revealing the _Millennium Falcon. _The ramp was lowering as they stepped out of the car and walked together, purposefully, towards the familiar ship.

Chewie descended slowly first, followed close behind by a crestfallen Lando. Both looked sadly towards Leia, and she saw the shock cross their features as they registered her obviously pregnant form. Chewie let out a mournful growl and Lando put a hand over his mouth to muffle the pained "Oh gods" that escaped him as he realized he not only lost Leia's husband but also the father of her child.

Leia was trembling in Luke's arms and he moved to hold her closer, but she shrugged off his embrace and stepped towards the Wookiee and the Baron Administrator. Luke noticed that she was shaking her head, and he wondered if Leia realized this as well.

"No," she said simply as Chewie wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She pulled back to study him, then looked at Lando and back at her brother.

"Princess," Lando began, his voice breaking, but she cut him off.

"He's not dead, Lando." She looked at Chewie. "Chewie, he's not dead."

"Leia," Luke said, putting a tentative hand back on her arm. Leia shut her eyes tightly as Luke touched her, her mouth in a thin line, and she cut him off with another short jerk of her head.

"Luke. Please, Luke." Opening her eyes again, Luke saw they were swimming with tears that she was too stubborn to cry. "He's alive, Luke. You _know _he's alive."

He nodded.

"I know."

Chewie rumbled again.

"No, Chewie," Leia said, turning to meet the Wookiee's sad eyes. "He is. We're going to get him back." She turned to Lando and squeezed the other man's hand. "We'll get him back," she said again.

Lando swallowed and glanced at Luke, who nodded at him.

"Okay," he agreed, cautiously.

"We'll get him back," Leia said again, collapsing slowly against Chewie, and the other three got the feeling that she might only be convincing herself.


	4. The Gold Beaches

Okay, so I'm beyond sorry about how long it took me to get this update to y'all. But as a peace offering, this chapter is pretty long, AND I've got the next one edited and ready to go, so I could be persuaded to put it up soon...(hint, hint) :)

One quick note, you'll notice some small details here that have already come into play in MOACS. You can feel cheated if you want, you can play the game and figure out what they are, or you can consider this an AU of an AU. (Or, really, you can do nothing at all and just read.)

Also, a note on the song choices, I'm basically O-B-S-E-S-S-E-D with O.A.R.'s All Sides album right now, so a lot of my stuff is currently inspired by these songs. I HIGHLY recommend checking out this band. They're my all time favorite. I love them more than the Dave Matthews Band, Cast Iron Filter, the Rolling Stones, the Talking Heads, Coldplay, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Beck, and the Dave Brubeck Quartet COMBINED. Yeah, it's frat-rock. What of it? :)

Er, sorry. That was a mini-rant. Onto the chapter.

--

Chapter Four: _The Gold Beaches_

"_I don't know when I'll be home; So save a place; For me 'til I get there; I don't know when I'll be home; So save a place for me; For me; For me; For me..."_

O.A.R., "The Gift"

--

The breeze coming off of the emerald green sea was warm and salty, and it caught little wisps of her unbound hair in rhythmic patterns that mirrored the relaxing roar of the waves crashing against the shimmering golden sand. Her white gossamer dress swirled against her petite form, silhouetting the smooth curve of her belly. The light from the two summer suns hugged her bare arms and shoulders, and the waves lapped over her bare feet as she walked through the tideline, the water warmed in the heat of the afternoon, splashing against the long hem of her dress so it clung to her legs.

Leia looked out over the sea and then scanned the golden beach that stretched for kilometers in every direction. It was empty. They shared this paradise with themselves only, and perhaps a few long-beaked avians that darted across the sky. She smiled and reached out an arm until her hand found Han's and their fingers twisted together as they walked through an aquamarine tide pool left behind by ebbing waters.

Her husband grinned back at her, his scruffy hair unruly in the breeze. The white shirt he wore was loose and light like her dress, and the untucked hem brushed against the khaki shorts that stopped above his scarred knees. There was still sand stuck to his tan legs from when he had been sitting earlier, and the soft, powdery crystals sparkled and gleamed in the sunlight as he walked, and Leia was reminded of an ancient legend her father had told her when she was a little girl about an alchemist king who turned into gold everything that he touched.

"This place is so beautiful," she said quietly, her words almost lost among the crashing sounds of a green wave as it tumbled against the sand.

Han nodded.

"Glad you made it, Your Worship."

She smirked at him, thankful for his playful irreverence and the fact that at least some things never changed.

"Where are we?"

"The Gold Beaches," he replied, looking out over the sea. "We're on Corellia. My mother brought me here when I was seven and I remember thinking that there could be nowhere in the galaxy more beautiful."

Still clutching his hand, Leia crouched down, graceful even with her growing belly, and scooped up a palmful of the soft, golden sands, marveling at it as the tiny grains were swept away by the wind and slipped through her fingers.

"I've never seen gold sand before." She looked up at her husband and found the color brilliantly reflected in his eyes. "We had beaches on Alderaan, but they were white sand. And I've seen the black sands on Mon Calamari, but most sand just looks like what you get on Tatooine."

Han's face darkened at the mention of Luke Skywalker's homeworld, and Leia quickly changed the subject.

"Why are we here?"

"I've been going back to the places that I love, because the memories are all I have right now."

"Are you dreaming?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know. I'm not awake."

"How do you know?"

The gold in Han's eyes shifted to a deep green, like the deep green of the sea, as he pondered his answer to her question.

"When I'm awake, I can feel it. I can feel myself suffocating. I try to move and I can't."

Leia squeezed his fingers, against her own ache for him and his pain, and hoped silently that the gentle pressure would be enough to see him through.

"Where are you, Han?" she pleaded. "Chewie and Lando are back from Tatooine. Boba Fett's ship crashed and they couldn't find you anywhere, but you're not dead."

He shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe I am."

"No, you're not!" she said quickly, standing in front of him so he couldn't walk away from the conversation. Tears pricked at her brown eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not, not ever, believe that he was dead, and she wouldn't allow him to believe it either. "You're not dead, Han."

He looked down at her sadly and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes, then brought his hand down to rest on her stomach.

"Look at you, Leia," he whispered hoarsely, marveling over her expanding belly. "I've been gone this long. I might as well be dead."

"No!" Her voice quivered as she protested and a stray tear escaped and ran down her cheek, down her chin, and then splashed onto his strong hand that was resting over her womb. "No. Stop that."

"What if I'm not back when he's born, Sweetheart?" His face fell and his own voice began to break. "I want to be there for you."

"I know." With a shaky hand, she wiped the tear away even as more began to fall, and let herself be drawn into his strong embrace. Han buried his face into the crown of her head, and as she wrapped her arms around him, she realized that his body was shaking as he, too, began to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Leia," he choked, his words muffled by her hair and the roar of the waves, and her own sob escaped her lips. "I didn't mean to put you through this."

"It's not your fault, Han."

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, and Leia felt the top of her hair grow damp from his tears as she held him closer to her. She didn't blame him, had never blamed him, not once. She blamed Vader, her birth father, for taking him away, and she blamed Boba Fett for losing him, but she never blamed Han for the bounty on his head, or his broken ship, or the trip to Bespin, and she never blamed him for loving her, for marrying her, and for giving her a son.

"We'll get you back." Her voice was stronger now, determined, but she did not let go of him. "I'll get you back. I promise."

They remained there for a long time, silently holding each other, offering strength as much as giving it, as the warm sand and the breeze swirled around them and began to fade into cold blackness. And then, reluctantly, Leia opened her eyes into the dark, empty chill of her room, and she was alone again except for the small life that grew within her and the tingling on her body where Han's arms had just been. Slowly, she rose out of the bed to make her way to the refresher and begin her day, and she could still smell Han's hair and the sweet salt of the breeze coming off the deep green sea.

--

In all practicality, war was not a place for a pregnancy, and the lack of a developed obstetrics unit on the Alliance's medical frigate was a symptom of how ill-prepared they truly were for the impending birth of the Solo baby. The medical droids were programmed to handle the birthing process for all species, of course, and any equipment that might be necessary was readily available, but the lack of proper facilities could be unnerving. Leia, however, was not concerned in the slightest because the Alliance was blessed to have on staff Medic Tuck Ello, and Leia truly believed she could not trust her pregnancy to more capable hands.

Tuck had joined the Rebellion not long after the win at Yavin IV after he'd narrowly escaped a ten-year enslavement at the Kessel spice mines with his life. He had been sold into slavery when his humanitarian convoy came under attack on Ord Sedell and spared from the mines when his overseers discovered his skills as a medic. For ten years, Tuck watched as the broken bodies of thousands of slaves, men, women, and children of every species, came through his sparse clinic to die or to be treated and returned to punishing labor that would only end in the sweet release of death. He delivered babies of all species, too, for several years when the slave drivers decided it was much easier to breed their chattel than pirate them from all corners of the galaxy.

The first time Tuck delivered a human baby to a mother so destroyed by the mines that she died before her son took his first breath was the breaking point for Tuck. Kessel slaves, himself included, were all implanted with a slave chip at the base of their skulls that induced a fatal heart attack if the slave traveled outside of the designated area, so he had to work quietly. He began secretly removing the chips of slaves that came through his clinic, and took a scalpel to his own neck, blindly, until he'd found his own. The painful process left nasty scarring along the back of his neck, but they were scars of liberation that he wore proudly.

Tuck's greatest regret was that the revolt he staged only freed about two hundred slaves, and six Bothan children had been killed during their escape. He came to the Alliance determined, ready to help however he could, with a sworn vow to free those that remained in the mines and to destroy the government that turned a blind eye to the atrocities committed there.

Leia trusted Tuck for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he reminded her so much of Han. A few years older than her husband, Tuck was also Corellian, also tall, and wore his blonde hair equally scruffy. He liked sabacc as much as Han did and the two had become fast friends over weekly games with the Rogues. Tuck was diligent and observant, and had once helped Han save Leia's life after an aid mission to Ryquin when he suspected she was falling ill and gave Han the medicine necessary to combat the deadly infection she'd contracted on the planet. She liked that he was a sentient and careful enough to notice the subtle changes that an emdee droid might miss, and so Leia sought Tuck, a fighter, a brilliant medic, and a friend, to provide her care through her pregnancy.

She was studying the clear, sepia movements on the ultrasound screen, awed by the brilliant image of Cub, her baby, the tangible proof that her love with Han had been real and so beautiful, when Tuck broke her reverie.

"Leia, you aren't gaining enough weight."

She dragged her gaze from the screen to look at Tuck, who was studying the datapad Two-Onebee had just handed him with a furrowed brow and marked concern in his dark blue eyes.

"There's been a lot going on," she mumbled, weakly, turning back to the screen and tracing the outline of Cub's mouth and the tiny thumb he was sucking.

"I know," Tuck said sympathetically. "I heard about Han. I'm so sorry."

"He's not dead, Tuck," Leia replied, turning to face him again. "It's not that, either."

"The new Death Star?" he queried. "I know you've been doing a lot of planning for the Endor campaign."

She nodded, thinking about the mission that would begin in three days. The Alliance had acted swiftly on the information obtained by Olwen Thuy'la because anything less would have been an insult to the memory of the fifty thousand Bothans that perished at the hands of the Empire. They had a plan. It was risky, dangerous, but if it worked, it would mean certain death for the Empire and an end to this terrible war.

The plan was two fold. Lando had accepted a commission as general, and he was leading a strike team that would land on the forest moon in a stolen _Lambda-_class shuttle using Imperial access codes that the Alliance had purchased for an exorbitant price. Luke, Chewie, Wes, Hobbie, and the droids were in Lando's command crew, and their mission was to deactivate the shield generator on the surface of the moon so the Death Star, in orbit, would be left unprotected. The second phase of the plan would then commence-a flight assault. As with the first Death Star, this new monster was not without weakness, and the fleet, with General Wedge Antilles and Lieutenant Tycho Celchu piloting the _Millennium Falcon _as a personal favor to Leia Organa Solo, would blow up the space station, sending the behemoth, its evil puppet master, Palpatine, and hopefully the Imperial chokehold straight to hell.

The entire campaign had been Rieekan's idea, and though they were all aware of the risks, High Command had approved it unanimously. The Alliance was going to, had to deliver the killing blow to the Empire in the next few days. Leia believed that they would prevail with every fiber of her being. She only wished that Han would be there to see it.

"Can you do a count for midichloridans?" she asked suddenly as her thoughts about the upcoming battle took a dangerous turn towards Vader.

Tuck was visibly startled by her question, and Leia smiled thinly at the confused expression on his face.

"I've learned some things about my birth parents recently," she explained, hoping silently she wouldn't have to go into any more detail than that. It had been several weeks since Luke returned from Dagobah with the news of their true relationship, and while Leia was delighted to learn what she'd somehow always suspected, that he was her brother, she still had been completely unable to bring herself to even think about the monster who fathered them. Still, Luke was a Jedi and Vader had once been a Jedi, and she had quickly discovered her own latent Force sensitivity. It only stood to reason that her child shared this Skywalker legacy.

"I could check in an amnio," he replied, "but the procedure isn't usually done in healthy pregnancies like yours. Besides, it's been known to induce early labor, and you're under enough stress as it is that I don't want to take any risks. We don't have neonatal facilities here. I have to take blood samples after the baby's born anyway, and it would be safer just to run it then."

"Of course. It's not that important, anyway."

Tuck nodded and turned back to the datapad.

"Your weight, Leia," he said again. "Cub weighs two kilos right now and you have only gained five, all right here," he gestured to her swollen belly, "and no where else. You're thirty weeks along now which means you should have gained at least nine. You aren't eating enough and you aren't sleeping enough, and that means your body doesn't have enough energy to support both you and your baby. I've threatened this before, Leia. I have no problem going to Rieekan or Skywalker."

Leia opened her mouth to interrupt, but Tuck held up his hand before she could say a word.

"Do you want this baby to survive, Leia?" he asked, more sternly than she had expected. The question startled her, and she felt a tightening in her chest at the very thought of losing what she had left of her husband.

"Of course I do, Tuck," she whispered, tears suddenly pricking at her brown eyes as she put her hands protectively over the swell of her stomach.

"I know that you do. But you're not doing what you need to do in order to keep yourself or your son healthy." The medic sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a gentle hand on her arm, coaxing her to look at him. "I'm not telling you this as your doctor, Leia, I'm telling you this as your friend. As Han's friend." Tuck grinned. "Han is already going to kill me when he gets back because I haven't tied you to a bed and forced you to sleep twenty hours a day." Leia couldn't help but chuckle. The medic had her husband pegged. "Go easier on yourself," he said, becoming serious once again. "Get more rest and eat more than half a ration bar a day. I know that you're working hard and that everyone is depending on you, but, Princess, you're not going to do them any good if I have to mandate bed rest and a nutrient drip."

Leia felt Cub turn inside her at Tuck's kind words, and the ache in her heart was dulled as she imagined holding a tiny infant with Han's hazel eyes. She smiled at her medic and patted his hand. War be damned, she would do everything in her power to make sure that her baby, that Han's baby, was born healthy and happy.

"Okay, Tuck," she said with a smile. "I will."

--

Luke joined Leia in her quarters every night after the evening briefing for tea and the opportunity to get to know his dear friend of almost four years as the twin sister with whom he so familiar and yet not at all, and Leia appreciated the companionship. In the first few days since his return from Dagobah and Lando and Chewie's tragic return from Tatooine, he had tried to get her to talk about what she was feeling. Their father's true identity, the setback in Han's rescue, the pending attack on the Empire all had to be wearing on her mind, but she refused to discuss any of it.

Leia's behavior was not at all unfamiliar to her brother, who had witnessed her dissociation from that which troubled her most in the months that followed Alderaan's destruction. They were different, the Skywalker twins, in that respect. Luke had always been one that allowed himself to grieve, but Leia compartmentalized what she was feeling, tucked her emotions in neat boxes in the far recesses of her mind and her heart and refused to access them until the boxes overflowed it was no longer bearable to keep her grief to herself.

He remembered trying to coax her about three months after they'd met, operating under his firm belief that it was what she needed to heal, but she'd rebuffed him and refused to discuss the issue any further. And he remembered feeling vaguely jealous when Han had mentioned, about nine months in to the trio's fast friendship, that Leia had finally broken down about Alderaan with him when the two were on a supply run to Ord Thanata. It had been the first time that he'd recognized that Han and Leia were destined for something that ran deeper, much, much deeper than friendship.

He had learned quite a bit about his sister in the years he had known her, and one thing he knew for sure was that she would grieve when she was ready. So he quickly gave up on trying to get her to open up and instead taught her the meditative practices and healing techniques that he'd learned on Dagobah. They were skills she mastered quickly, having unknowingly used them during her torture on the first Death Star, but they were skills that would see her through her quickly approaching labor and delivery, that would allow her to ease her own pain.

And they talked, too, brother and sister, about things other than the Force and their genetics. They shared funny stories and memories from their separate pasts. He would relay the Rogues' daily pranks and she would tell him about Cub's newest movements and speculate about a relationship between Carlist Rieekan and Mon Mothma. They talked about Han, about Han and Leia, the Unit, the couple. And eventually they talked about the Empire, and the upcoming battle that the Alliance was staging for Endor, a battle that they both were praying would deliver the killing blow to the tyranny that had repressed the galaxy for too long.

Luke was leaving his twin and her unborn child in the morning, along with Chewie, Lando, Wes, and Hobbie, for the forest moon. The time had finally come for this final strike against the Empire, and though they were both so desperate for the battle, neither Skywalker was quite ready to leave the other. Though he had not yet revealed it to Leia, Luke was not planning on joining the Alliance in the strike on the shield generator. Once they reached the moon, he was going to turn himself into his father and take that last step, that inevitable step that Obi-Wan and Yoda had both foreseen, and try to bring Anakin Skywalker back from the Dark.

Vader wanted to turn Luke, that much he knew, and he was certain that, if his father knew of Leia's existence and even worse, of Cub's existence, he would go after them as well. So Luke was going to his father not because it was a final obstacle to becoming a Jedi, but because he was determined to protect his sister and his nephew. Leia and Cub would never be safe as long as Anakin Skywalker was consumed by the Dark, and Luke blamed himself for Han's absence. Tragedy would have never befallen them at Bespin if Vader was not so desperate to find his son, and it was Luke's silent pledge to Leia to never let her be hurt again.

Of course, he had not yet revealed to his sister his plans to turn himself over. That would come later, when he was well on his way to Endor. Leia had been a quick study in the Force and they could communicate without words. Luke would tell her through his thoughts when she was too far away to stop him, or worse and far more likely, follow him.

He was hesitant to leave his sister, because he could feel just how anxious this upcoming battle was making her. And while he had masked his own apprehension, Luke had no guarantees that he would make it back from his encounter with their father alive. He could not see the future, and he was not yet ready to say goodbye. So, for the moment, he was content to be there with his sister, glowing, tiny despite her third trimester of pregnancy, and tired. Leia was already in her nightclothes and a thick robe, her dark brown hair that he suspected was so much like their mother's undone and cascading down her back. She was laughing despite the pain emanating from her person, telling him a funny story about Chewie, Wedge, and a misunderstanding over a hydrospanner, and Luke found strength he had not known he needed in his sister's brilliant smile.

"So of course, Chewie is angry at this point, because Wedge is supposed to be familiar with the _Falcon _by now," she chuckled.

"And Wedge is terrified of giant angry Wookiee?" Luke guessed.

Leia nodded and opened her mouth to continue the story but was interrupted by a chime at her door. Luke thought little of it; it was not unusual for Chewie to join them in the evenings, and often Rieekan would stop by to wish Leia goodnight. She held up a finger, indicating to him that she would continue the story in a moment, and crossed the room to greet their guest. Who she found at her door, however, was not someone either she or Luke had expected to see.

Lando Calrissian stood in the threshold, looking rather distraught, and he was holding in his hands what Luke recognized as a very familiar blaster.

"Lando? Are you all right?" she asked worriedly, stepping out of the way to allow him access to her quarters.

Lando smiled uneasily at her and nodded at Luke, who was visible from his seat on the conform chair in Leia's living area. Noticing her pajamas, he cleared his throat nervously, his easy charisma seeming to abandon him for the moment.

"Princess, I didn't mean to disturb you this late. I just needed to speak with you before I left in the morning."

"It's not late, Lando," she said with a small smile, placing a hand on her belly. "Would you like to come in? Luke and I were having tea and I can pour you a mug."

"No, thank you," he said as he crossed the threshold and handed her the blaster he was carrying. Leia took it carefully, seeing immediately that it was Han's beloved DL-44, and ran her fingers along the well-worn edges of the antique black weapon.

"I thought this was gone," she mused quietly, sitting down next to him on the conform couch. Luke made a movement to leave, but Lando shook his head, inviting the younger man to stay by his sister's side.

"Vader left it in the dining room," he said, acerbically, still so bitter at the man that he did not yet know had fathered the two people in the room with him. "I had Lobot return it to the _Falcon."_

"Thank you," Leia said with a smile. "Han will be happy to have it back."

With some effort, Lando swallowed and glanced at Luke. The former baron administrator did not share either Leia's nightly connection with her husband or Luke's Force sensitivity and ability to pick up on Han's slight-but-present signature. He also didn't share Chewbacca's unwavering belief in anything the princess had declared. He had seen the wreckage on Tatooine, and it was impossible for him to believe the three that Han had loved the most while they maintained the missing smuggler was still alive.

"I'm so sorry, Leia," Lando began, neither confirming nor denying his belief in Han's return. "I had no idea what Vader was going to do, and if I had known-"

"Lando," she said quietly, holding up a hand. "You're forgiven."

"No, no," he disagreed. "I took Han away from you. His _wife. _I took a father away from his child."

"You couldn't have known," Luke interjected.

Lando glanced at him, then back at Leia.

"I should have known."

Leia furrowed her brow and shook her head, and then reached across and took Lando's hand with a gentle squeeze of her slight fingers.

"Have you ever heard of the legend of Hede, Lando?" she asked, quietly.

Puzzled, Lando shook his head, and Luke felt a small smile, immeasurable pride at his sister's unwavering strength, tug at his lips.

"When I was a little girl, my father would tell me stories when he was putting me to sleep at night. Once, he told me about the myth of the garden planet of Hede. Hede was ruled by a wise, benevolent king named Asa, who was given his position by Sar, the goddess of strength. King Asa loved the people of his kingdom, but he also had a beautiful wife named Elah, who was a blessing given to him by Helodite, the goddess of love.

"King Asa, Queen Elah, and the people of Hede lived in peace and harmony for many, many years, until the day that Alghoul, the evil Lord of the Underworld, came to Hede and captured Queen Elah. He held Elah ransom, demanding that King Asa give him the throne to Hede, or he would take Elah back to the Underworld with him and force her to be his bride. Asa had to make a terrible decision because he loved his wife more than himself, but he was responsible for his people and could never bear to see them become slaves to Alghoul.

"Alghoul gave him two moons to make his decision, and for two days and two nights, Asa was in solitude. He did not eat or sleep, he only prayed to the goddess to show him the right decision. On the third day, Asa came to Alghoul and told him to take Elah back to the Underworld, because he was a ruler above all else and would never let harm befall his people. King Asa's heart broke as he watched Alghoul take Elah back to the Underworld and he never saw her again, but he was exalted as a ruler because he spared Hede an eternity of torture."

Leia paused a moment, noting Lando's growing confusion, and offered him a thin smile before she continued.

"I remembered my father's story when I was a prisoner on the first Death Star. They took me to the bridge and showed me Alderaan, and they told me that they would destroy it if I didn't tell them the location of the Rebel base. Lando, I loved my home and my people very much, but I also love this galaxy and I believe in freedom. So I lied to them. I tried to save Alderaan and my family, but even as they fired on my home anyway, I knew that this momentous loss, that my own breaking heart, would be worth it if, in the end, we can bring peace and hope and independence to all worlds.

"My point is, Lando, that sometimes people in power are forced to make decisions for the greater good. We become leaders with this knowledge. And sometimes, we have to sacrifice the things that we love to protect the people that depend on us."

Leia inhaled deeply and lay her free hand over her belly.

"I know that you had no idea what Vader was planning, Lando. And I also know that you were only trying to protect your people. The Imperials would have ruined Bespin if you didn't turn us over and they probably would have captured us anyway. I understand that it was a horrible decision that you had to make, and I will forever be grateful that you helped us get away."

Luke nodded in agreement with his sister, and Lando bowed his head, grateful for and yet so undeserving of the forgiveness and redemption the Skywalker twins had bestowed upon him.

"We're going to get Han back," Leia insisted after a moment. "I know it sounds crazy, but he's alive. I can feel him. Luke can feel him"

"Han's stubborn," Luke added. "He's not going to let anything take him down until he at least meets his son."

Lando's eyes widened, startled, and then he turned to Leia, a familiar, smooth smile crossing his face.

"You're having a boy?"

She nodded.

"He's going to be a handful if he's anything like his father."

Both Luke and Lando chuckled at this.

"I hate to say it, Princess," Lando scolded, "but you had to know what you were getting into."

Leia smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and Luke offered his sister a knowing smirk.

"I certainly had fair warning. It's my own fault."

"One thing's for sure, Lando," Luke added, "with Han and Leia for parents, that boy is going to be one of the most persuasive people in the galaxy. The last time I saw them together, Leia was calling Han a scruffy-looking nerfherder. I'm out of it for a while and suddenly they're married with a baby on the way. I don't know who talked who into what, but when Cub gets here, don't be surprised if he gets you to do something you weren't planning on doing."

Lando chuckled again and Leia, cheeks ever so slightly pink, buried her face into her hands and shook her head.

"Luke!"

Luke was grinning at his sister when she looked up again, but when they both looked at the general, they saw that something like guilt had settled on his face again.

"I really am sorry, Leia, Luke. I can't believe that you're so understanding about this."

"It's over, Lando." Luke said. "You're forgiven."

Leia nodded in agreement.

"You did the best you could, and that's all any of us can ask. Please," she implored quietly, placing a hand on Lando's arm, "please don't think anything else of it."


	5. Death and Life

C5: _Death and Life_

"_Hold on, and you've got to remember; Hold on, and you've got to be strong; Hold on, and you've got to remember; You've got to come back; You've got to be strong; Hold on, I know you remember; Hold on, with me, you belong; With me, you belong..."_

O.A.R., "Dinner Last Night"

--

From her position on _Home One_'s observation bridge, Leia had an unobstructed view as the monstrous Death Star exploded into brilliant fireworks. She could clearly see the _Millennium Falcon _as it narrowly escaped the flames and sped towards Endor and the rest of the fleet. She could hear the joyous din around her as the Rebels, victorious at last, erupted into a chorus of cheers that could have been music. She could feel Rieekan's firm grip on her shaking hand and was vaguely aware of Mothma's jubilant smile, but as Leia sank down to the floor, sagging under the weight of relief, of victory, she could only focus on her brother's voice in her own mind, assuring her that he was all right, and on the baby in her womb, turning and kicking as though he were dancing in celebration with the Alliance.

They had won. They had finally won. After twenty-four years of war, after two days of a intense battle, after finding themselves in a trap, after believing that all was lost, they had finally ended the Emperor's tyrannical reign. Leia had spent the last day unable to focus on anything but Luke. She had felt her heart break when she heard him tell her he was turning himself over to their father, and she had doubled over as she felt his pain at the hands of Palpatine. Luke had been willing to sacrifice himself for her and Cub, but he was finally safe, he was fine, and Leia desperately needed to see him.

She realized suddenly that Rieekan was kneeling on the deck beside her, his face a mix of worry and fear, and slowly she began to return to the world around her.

"Leia? Are you all right?"

Leia closed her eyes and nodded, squeezing the hand that Rieekan was holding.

"I'm fine, Carlist."

"Do we need to get you to Tuck?" There was almost a tremble in his voice, and Leia felt a surge of love for the man that had become so much of a father to her. She opened her eyes again and smiled, brilliantly, happily, a smile of someone who had finally been set free.

"No. I'm really okay." Tightening her grip on his hand, they stood up together and she wrapped her arms around him in a firm embrace. "Luke wants to see me," she whispered into his ear. "Can we get down to the moon?"

"Of course, Lelila," Rieekan replied, kissing her cheek. "We can take a shuttle now if you need to go."

"I do. I need to see if Chewie and Lando are all right. Can you comm the _Falcon_? Wedge and Tycho could take us down."

Rieekan nodded and turned to the comm panel while Leia allowed herself to soak in the revelry. She embraced Mothma and Dodonna and danced with Ackbar. The short trip with Rieekan to the hangar bay to meet the _Falcon _took nearly twenty minutes because the two stopped and congratulated every soldier they met. Leia's reunion with Wedge and Tycho had been jubilant, but she had to take a moment to herself as she walked on to Han's ship, the ship that had brought down the Empire, the ship that she called home, and was overwhelmed by memories of him. The other men, sensing that the victory for her was hollow without Han, left her alone in the galley as they went to the cockpit and took off.

The flight down to Endor was short, and Leia joined them as they prepared for landing. Luke had asked her to join him in the woods not far from the position that Chewie had given the Alliance for a rendezvous, and she informed Rieekan that the two Skywalkers would join the celebration in a moment. The Alderaani general did not follow her through the thick forest, but promised that he would come find her if she hadn't returned within the next few hours. Leia agreed, then set out on foot, hiking away from the shouts of celebration and unmistakable roars of a very familiar Wookiee, following her brother's voice until she found him.

Luke was standing in a small clearing, his dark figure silhouetted by the red-orange flames of a funeral pyre. As she approached, her breath caught in her throat when she realized exactly who was lying on top of the pyre, and she froze for a moment, ready to turn and flee.

"Wait, Leia," Luke said softly, walking over and embracing her. As his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, Leia realized she was trembling. She clutched her brother desperately, overjoyed to have him back and terrified of exactly what was in front of them.

"Luke, I can't," she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Leia," he implored gently, walking them towards the flames. "He's dead. He died saving my life."

She looked towards the masked figure of Darth Vader, of her father, blurred through her tears, where he lay unmoving; his body, or what was left of his body, being slowly consumed by the flames that lapped at his black armor. Leia felt herself go cold. The man before her was her father, was the source of so much pain and tragedy in her life, was everything that she had come to fear for nearly four years. And he was dead. He could never hurt her again. She had no reason to fear any longer, and yet she was paralyzed, terrified.

"He saved me, Leia," Luke insisted quietly. "He turned back to the Light."

"No!" Leia pushed away from her brother, suddenly fearful that perhaps Luke, like their father, had been consumed by darkness. She could not believe that Vader had the capacity for such a tremendous sacrifice. "He was a monster!"

Luke reached out and pulled his struggling sister back into him. As he tightened her arms around her, he brushed her mind through the Force, calming her terrors. Leia relaxed and opened her mind to him, and through this link he showed her everything that had happened on the Death Star. He let her watch as Vader, no, Anakin Skywalker, saved by his love for his son, lifted Emperor Palpatine high above his head and throw him down the reactor core of the monstrous space station that was now nothing but burning debris. She saw Luke remove the black mask to reveal the man behind the monster, and she saw that he had her brother's brilliant blue eyes. She watched while her father, broken and scarred, wept because he had seen Luke through his own eyes for the first time, and because he had learned about Leia and the impending birth of his grandson.

"His love for us brought him back." Luke explained quietly as the memories faded and Leia was once again staring at the flames of the pyre. He put a hand on Leia's stomach and they both felt Cub kick in response. "He could feel Cub, Leia. He was so happy for you."

Leia quickly wiped a tear from her cheek and shook her head.

"One good deed does not redeem him from a lifetime of pain," she choked, finding her brother's eyes, blue eyes sparkling with the depths of his sadness. Luke was grieving for their father, she realized, and he needed, desperately, for her to grieve as well. But she could not be sad for their father; she could find nothing in her heart but anger and contempt towards Anakin Skywalker.

"Leia, please-"

She put a finger over his lips, silencing him, and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

"I know you need me to forgive him, Luke, but I can't. Not yet."

The tears came to Luke's eyes at last and he nodded before pulling her in closer to him and kissing the crown of her head.

"One day?" It was a sad plea, and it broke Leia's heart.

"I need time."

"Okay," he whispered, knowing that it would have to be enough for now.

Brother and sister, arm in arm, were silent for a long time as they watched their father's body be consumed by the dancing flames. They said no words, they had no words, and only the crackling fire and the mournful cries of the Endor nightavian provided requiem for the private rites. Anakin Skywalker burned, in a funeral reserved for the Jedi, a funeral reserved for heroes, and Leia realized as she watched the flames that her father had been a hero. He had saved her brother's life, and he had saved her son from being born into a galaxy ruled by hatred. She had a long way to go before she could even begin to forgive him, would struggle for a long time with everything that he had done to her, but Luke had shown her the truth. In the end, she could not deny that Anakin Skywalker had loved his children, and perhaps, for that reason, she could grieve with her brother.

As Anakin's body finally became ashes and the flames became glowing red embers, Leia felt Luke's tears on the crown of her head. Quietly, she pulled him in closer to her, offering her brother the strength she knew he needed, and Cub kicked as though he were offering his uncle the same support.

"I'm so sorry, Luke," she whispered, her words nearly lost in the fireworks of celebration that began to explode in the stars above.

--

The Rebel Alliance found a sanctuary on the forest moon of Endor. Lando's team had befriended the native Ewok species, short, furry creatures along evolutionary lines similar to the Wookiee, whose primitive weapons and sheer will had helped defeat the technology-dependent Imperials. The Ewoks had offered the Alliance shelter in their tree huts and space to land some of the fleet, and Endor had become the provisional capital of the New Republic while General Wedge Antilles and Admiral Acbkar negotiated the takeover of Coruscant.

The Ewoks had taken a special interest in Leia, and one in particular named Wicket learned through Threepio that the bulge at her midriff was a baby. The little Ewok was fascinated with the idea that Leia was going to give birth, and three weeks after the Alliance won over Endor, Wicket gifted Leia with a chair and footrest that he had crafted himself. They were made of a sturdy white wood that he had smoothed so it would not splinter and then upholstered in plush cushions fashioned out of tan animal skins. The chair was designed in a way that allowed Leia to glide back and forth if she sat in it. It was unlike any conform chair she had ever seen before, and it was beautiful. Wicket explained that the gliding motion helped soothe infant Ewoks, so Leia should be able to rock her own cub to sleep while comfortable in the chair. It was Cub's first gift, and it was one of the most precious things Leia had ever received.

She had confirmed her pregnancy to the Alliance two days after they brought down the Emperor and was met with nothing but the warmest congratulations and deepest sympathies for Han's absence. The support was encouraging. Winning the war had been a bittersweet victory for Leia. Despite his protestations of the opposite, it had been Han's fight the minute he had turned around over Yavin and shot the TIE fighters off Luke four years ago. He deserved to be there. It broke her heart that he was still gone.

With the war over, they were free to search the galaxy for Han. Tuck, however, had mandated that Leia have no part in the search. She was too close to her due date and could not afford to go into labor somewhere in the Outer Rim or on a ship lacking in medical facilities. Luke refused to leave while she was still pregnant, lest he risk missing the birth of his nephew, and Chewie, sworn in his life debt to protect Leia and Cub as much as Han, also refused to go. As a general, Lando was involved with the Alliance's next steps and unable to tear himself away, so they collectively decided that the search for Han would be put on hold until Cub was born. With Imperial tyranny at an end, they were at least allowed unhindered access to intergalactic information channels, so Leia had been tracking Boba Fett's movements before the crash of his ship, searching for a sign, a clue, anything that might indicate Han's whereabouts.

Leia was devastated at the fact that Han would not be with her for the birth of their son, but she did well to mask her heartbreak. She coped by plunging ahead in her work with the New Republic, writing a new Constitution and meeting with representatives of newly incorporated planets that had come to Endor. She worked, yes, and put her years of training as a diplomat to excellent use, but her days were shorter so she could spend more time with Luke and Rieekan and Chewie,so she could prepare herself for Cub's arrival, and so she could go to sleep early and dream with Han.

Though she had spent several nights after the battle in the Ewok tree huts as a gesture of goodwill, it had become difficult for her increasingly pregnant form to make it up and down the rope ladders to get there. Instead, she moved to the _Falcon. _Sleeping in Han's bed did not make missing him any easier, but the familiarity of his ship and the memory of his presence was comforting to Leia and Cub. She had readied the ship for the baby's arrival. The gliding chair was already in her cabin, and Mon Mothma had returned from a diplomatic envoy to Naboo with a crib, a changing table, blankets, diapers, bottles, pacifiers, a baby monitor, a repulsor carriage, and a baby sling traditional for Nabooan mothers that would allow her to carry Cub with her hands-free; in short, a veritable start-up kit for the Solo baby. Leia completed the makeshift nursery with a grey baby nerf doll named Canadys, a gift to her from Han on the first anniversary of Alderaan's destruction in his effort to replace the one given to her as a child by Bail Organa.

Eight weeks after the Battle of Endor, Leia left Han on the now-familiar Gold Beaches of Corellia and awoke with a dull ache in her lower back. Groaning, she rose from the bunk, a task proving more and more difficult with each passing day of her pregnancy, and made her way to the refresher. A long, hot shower helped to dull the ache, but while she dressed and pulled the top of her chocolate brown hair back into a long, loose braid, a new ache took hold of her heart as she caught sight of the date on her wrist chrono.

Four years. It had been four years to the day since she had stood on that cursed deck in the first Death Star and watched as her beautiful Alderaan was obliterated into glittering dust. How could she have forgotten that this terrible day was fast approaching?

Leia crossed the cabin and picked up the baby nerf doll resting in Cub's crib. Hugging it into herself, she felt Cub turn over as she remembered the day Han gave her the toy. He had evacuated her on the _Falcon _following the Battle of Yavin and she had confessed to him that her brown nerf doll named Sellen, a gift to her from her adopted father when Breha Organa had died just after Leia's sixth birthday, had been on the _Tantive IV _when it was boarded by Vader. She counted Sellen among the losses of Alderaan, and Han, sweet Han, had somehow managed to find another doll and given it to her on the first anniversary of the Destruction. He had stayed with her that night as she struggled through her grief, and he had stayed with her on the second anniversary as well. He even stayed with her on the third anniversary, when they were both still so bitter and fighting their feelings following the disaster at Ord Mantell.

"I don't know, Han," Leia whispered sadly into the empty room, "what to do on this day without you here."

And she did not know what to do without him there except to go about her day as though everything was the same. Rieekan found her over breakfast that she was not hungry for and they shared that hug between survivors that said so much with nothing at all. She shared a similar look with Tycho Celchu when she saw him with a group of Rogues later that morning, and Chewie, remembering the date, wrapped her in his strong arms for a little longer than necessary and lamented the fact that he could not begin to offer her the comfort that Han had.

Luke found her that afternoon in Han's chair in the cockpit of the _Falcon, _poring over a list of proposals for the new Constitution from the Bothans. The ache in her back had returned with a vengeance as the day wore on, accompanied this time by waves of nausea, so Leia had fixed herself a cup of herbal tea and curled up in a position that did very little to make her more comfortable.

"I know that today's been tough," he said quietly as he sat down in Chewie's seat.

Leia nodded and set the datapad down on the controls.

"Yes, it has."

"Han has always been a lot better at this than I am," Luke conceded. In truth, he had always felt a little helpless when it came to Leia and Alderaan. That day had been a terrible one for him, too, that included the deaths of Owen, Beru, and Obi-Wan, but he had always felt that his grief paled in comparison to what Leia had to be feeling. Somehow, it had been Han who had always been able to cheer them both up. The same supply run that had produced Canadys for Leia had also produced for Luke three containers of blue milk, his favorite and something he had not seen since Tatooine.

"You're here now, Luke," she said with a smile that really ended up looking more like a grimace. "That's what matters."

Even without the benefit of the Force, Leia's discomfort was almost palpable. Luke's brow knitted in concern as he noticed that his sister had paled visibly and was trying very hard to ignore her pain. Worried, he reached across and took one of her hands in his.

"Are you okay? You look like you feel terrible."

She opened her mouth to reply but instead cried out as a wave of pain, emanating from her abdomen, washed over her body. Luke was by her side in an instant.

"Leia?" His voice was tense, almost panicked.

The pain passed and Leia exhaled slowly, leaning back into the pilot's seat and rubbing her left hand across her belly. Since she had revealed her pregnancy and marriage, she had started wearing the washer on her finger again, and a glance down at the unassuming piece of jewelry reminded her that Han was always right there by her side.

"It's fine, Luke. But I think I might be in labor."

--

Indeed, Leia Organa Solo was in labor, and by the time she and her brother arrived at the docked medical frigate, a mere three hundred paces from the _Falcon, _she had grit her teeth through seven more intense contractions. Luke had commed Tuck, who was waiting at the ramp of the ship with Two-Onebee and insisted on Leia changing into a long-sleeved white medical tunic before he checked her progress.

She was nine centimeters dilated and at plus-two station by the time Tuck had a chance to check her and run an IV line into her arm, and though Luke had no idea what this meant, Leia knew that she was already very near the end of her labor and smiled when she told him as much.

"W-w-wait," Luke stammered, almost terrified. "You're having the baby now?"

"You aren't squeamish are you, Luke?" she joked.

"No, it's just...I don't know if I'm ready!"

Tuck laughed, and Leia, hit with another intense contraction, still managed a quick squeeze of her brother's fingers.

"Well, you'd better get ready, Uncle Luke," Tuck warned, "because Cub is on his way. Leia, I'd say you're looking at another hour tops before you're ready to begin pushing."

Leia nodded and exhaled slowly as the contraction subsided. Luke's meditative techniques were helpful, but each new contraction was more painful than the last, and they were coming faster and faster. She knew that she was strong enough to make it through this, but she silently hoped it ended soon.

Tuck left them alone for a while to see to another patient but promised to return the moment his datapad alerted him to a change in Leia's status. As the medic exited, Luke dabbed his sister's forehead with a damp, cool cloth.

"I know it hurts, Leia."

"It does," she managed through her clenched jaw.

Luke held Leia's hand as she breathed through each new contraction. If he could not have felt her drawing upon the Force for strength, he would have had no idea she was in any pain at all. Leia did not scream, did not cry out, and Luke suspected the pain she felt, while great, perhaps paled in comparison to what she felt during her torture on the Death Star. The thought made him a little sick.

"You're doing great," he encouraged, hoping to divert thoughts from his sister's torture. "Not much longer."

"I hope not."

Tuck reentered the room as that sentiment escaped Leia's lips and grinned.

"You know, Leia," he said, "I think you might be a little too quiet. You _can_ scream. The walls are soundproof, and I promise I won't tell the New Republic that their fearless leader felt some pain during childbirth."

She managed a smile, but it faded quickly with the discomfort of a fresh contraction and she shut her eyes tightly against the pain.

"Good news," she heard Tuck announce triumphantly. "You're there! You can start pushing on the next contraction."

Leia let a startled cry escape her and glanced down at the washer on the third finger of her left hand. In a few short moments, the Solos' son would make his grand entrance into the galaxy, and Han could not be there with her. She closed her eyes again and focused on her husband's face, and to her surprise, felt his presence brush against her mind. She could have sworn she heard him say 'You're doing great, Sweetheart,' and, imagined or not, his words were what she needed to keep going.

She became vaguely aware that she was being encouraged to push, so as another contraction hit her she took a deep breath and obliged. The pain was nearly unbearable, and she finally cried out against it. Luke squeezed her hand tighter in response to her strangled moan.

"Come on, Leia, I know you can do it," he whispered.

"We're almost there," Tuck echoed. "I can see his head. You only have one or two more pushes, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Leia nodded and began to push as another contraction washed over her body.

"You're doing great," Luke beamed, and Tuck motioned for the soon-to-be uncle to join him at his end of the bed.

"His head's out, Leia," the medic announced happily as Two-Onebee moved to suction Cub's airway. "I just need one more little push from you and then Uncle Luke is going to cut the cord."

She did as she was told, and the haze of Leia's pain was abruptly broken by the loud wail of an infant, the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in her life, and suddenly Tuck was placing a red-faced, squirming bundle of blankets and tiny baby on her chest. Leia did not know whether to laugh or cry with joy as she wrapped trembling arms around the baby, around her son. She glanced at her brother, who was trying to cut through the umbilical cord with tears shining in his bright blue eyes, and laughed, thrilled, before locking eyes with the child, the baby she had imagined for nine months finally here in her arms.

Cub looked up at his mother and she saw with a bittersweet squeeze of her heart Han's hazel eyes staring back at her. He quieted instantly as his gaze met Leia's, and mother and son marveled at one another. The newest Solo had his father's eyes and his father's mouth, but he had his mother's nose and a head of curly blonde hair that Leia recognized immediately as distinctly Skywalker. He was beautiful, perfect. He was everything that she had imagined and so much more.

"Hi, Cub," she whispered, awed and overjoyed. "It's nice to meet you."

Leia and Han's son appeared to echo his mother's sentiment. He reached up with a tiny hand and touched her face, his fingers a featherlight caress. She bent her neck and returned the light touch with sweet kisses to his forehead, then sank back against the pillows and studied him again. He was beautiful. The best gift Han had ever given her.

As Leia and Cub drank in one another, Leia's vitals monitor began to screech loudly. The sound startled the infant, who began to cry again, and suddenly Cub was torn from Leia's chest by another droid that had suddenly appeared as Tuck and Two-Onebee rushed to Leia's aid. The room around her became fuzzy and she felt as though everyone around her was moving in slow motion. Leia vaguely registered her brother's panic as he was shuffled out of the room by a new medic, and though she called out to Luke, begged him to bring her son back, no sound escaped her lips. She was growing cold and confused by the screaming monitors and the commotion around her, and darkness was beginning to tug at the edges of her sight. She turned her head and looked at the stark white floor, noticing for the first time that it had been stained crimson at the food of the bed.

The last thing that Leia saw before unconsciousness overtook her was blood, her blood, draining out of her and pooling in a deep scarlet puddle at Tuck's feet.

--

"Why are you here now?"

The room she was in was white, cold. It was empty, four walls, a silver door, no furniture or windows, and illuminated by a single glow panel in the ceiling that cast eerie shadows as it dimmed towards the edges of the room. The voice was quiet, but it startled her because she had been so sure she was alone. Pulling the white tunic more tightly around her waist, Leia realized suddenly that she was no longer pregnant. There was no curve at her stomach and she could feel no life inside of her. Terrified, she spun around to the source of the voice and saw Han standing there, wearing the white shirt and black pants she had seen him in last, his handsome features etched in deep concern.

"What?" she asked, failing in her attempt to keep herself from trembling. Han stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands, stroking the apples of her cheeks with calloused thumbs, and searched her with the same hazel eyes that she had just seen on a much smaller face.

"Sweetheart," he whispered with a sad smile, "why are you here now?"

"Han? I don't understand. What's happening?"

Even as she asked the question, it all came flooding back to her. She remembered her labor, remembered giving birth to their perfect son, and she remembered watching as the baby was wrenched from her arms and away. She remembered her own blood spilling on the floor and her breath caught in her chest. Was she dead? Had she lived long enough to see her son but would now never see him again? Leia searched Han's face for an answer, panicked, trying desperately to blink back the tears that were suddenly pricking her eyes.

"Oh gods, Han, am I dead? Our son! He's-"

"Shh," he interrupted, placing a gentle kiss on her lips to quiet and reassure her. "You're not dead, Leia. You're okay. Your uterus wasn't contracting and you were bleeding out, but Tuck was able to get it under control." Han kissed her again, more deeply this time, then folded her into his strong arms. "You did beautiful, Sweetheart," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so proud of you."

Leia rested her head against his chest, content for a moment to just hear Han's heart beating.

"He's perfect, Leia," Han murmured.

"He has your eyes," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "He looks so much like you."

Han held her a little tighter.

"You just didn't want to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight."

They both laughed even as they struggled against their tears.

"Scoundrel," she accused softly, but it was half-hearted at most and they both knew everything that she was unable to say.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he murmured.

"I know."

Han began to tremble and Leia began to pull back but he crushed her into him as though everything in his world depended on her there, fitting perfectly into his arms.

"Tell him I love him," he pleaded quietly, his voice shaking. "Please, Leia. He's my son. Tell him I love him and I'm sorry that I wasn't there. I'm so sorry."

"Han-"

"Please. Make sure he knows I'm his dad. Leia, make sure he knows I love him. Don't let him grow up like me. Don't let him grow up wondering if I care about him.

A sob escaped Leia's throat at her husband's words, but she nodded into his chest. She hated to think that there might come a time when their son noticed his father's absence, but until then, she had not allowed herself to entertain the idea that Han might not return. Han had become an adult too soon, had grown up assuming that his father never loved him, and he was terrified that the same might be true for his son. But Leia would not, could not let that happen. Their son would know. His father, Han Solo was a hero, was his mother's savior, and would always love them both with everything in his heart.

"He'll know, Han," she pledged. "I promise."

--

As everything came slowly into focus, Leia wondered for a moment if she was still dreaming. The room she was in was still stark and white and dimly lit by one small glowpanel in the ceiling. But then she heard the slow, rhythmic beep of a vitals reader beside her and realized that she was lying in a bed and that she was sore, so sore, and because of that she could not have been dreaming.

Leia turned her head slowly to the left and noticed a clear bassinet situated next to her bed, meant very clearly for a baby despite its glaring emptiness. Then she heard a quiet song drifting from the right corner of the room. It was a gentle tune, she realized, familiar, and Alderaani. Mildly surprised, Leia looked to the direction of the lullaby and saw, sitting in a conform rocking chair, Carlist Rieekan cradling a tiny bundle swaddled in a hooded pale blue blanket. He smiled as he glanced up and noticed her watching them, then stood and approached her.

Leia pushed herself to a sitting position against the pillows as Rieekan sat on the bed next to her and then settled the infant into her waiting arms. Cub was wide awake, studying the blurry shapes of this bright new world, but when Leia took him, his hazel eyes found hers and once again mother and son were entranced.

"He's beautiful, Lelila," Rieekan said quietly, hesitant to interrupt the sweet scene unfolding before him. "I counted ten fingers and ten toes. He's just perfect."

"I can't believe he's here," Leia whispered, awed by the cherubic angel in her arms. "I've already loved him for so long, and now he's real."

Rieekan leaned forward and kissed Leia's temple, then brushed back the hood of the blanket so they could both see Cub's face.

"You gave us a scare," he murmured after a moment. "You lost a lot of blood, but Tuck was able to get it under control before they had to do anything drastic."

"How long have I been out?"

"Four hours. Enough that they had to give Cub a bottle. Tuck is sending Ahsha Cuttino in soon. She's going to help you with getting him to eat."

They were quiet for a moment, soaking in the serenity of the moment, before Leia remembered her earlier sadness.

"What day is it?" she whispered, not looking up from her son's hypnotizing gaze. When she heard Rieekan swallow, she knew that it was still the anniversary of that awful day, but staring into her son's eyes made it all suddenly less painful. She reached one hand out and gripped the general's fingers, offering him strength with a tiny squeeze. "He was two weeks early by design, I think. He's a blessing, Carlist, don't you see? We can't hate this day anymore."

"Cub has given us joy," he agreed. "He has given us happiness in the place of so much sorrow."

Leia grinned and finally broke her hold on the baby's eyes long enough to look at the man she considered her father.

"He's got a name now, Carlist. Haddon. Haddon Prestor Solo."

Rieekan's eyes, blue like Luke's, brimmed with tears as Leia named her son. Haddon was Rieekan's middle name, and Prestor had been Bail Organa's middle name.

"My sweet Leia. I am so honored."

She kissed her son's forehead.

"He will always know that Luke is his uncle and that Han is his father, but I need him to know that you and Papa are family, too."

Rieekan leaned in and kissed Leia's forehead again, then rose as the door chimed softly and Tuck entered the room, followed by Luke and a pink-skinned Twi'lek that Leia recognized to be Ahsha Cuttino.

"I'll be back soon, Lelila," Rieekan said, nodding to Leia's new guests as he exited.

Luke smiled and assumed the spot Rieekan had just vacated on Leia's bed as Tuck checked the monitor and datapad at the foot of her bed.

"How do you feel, Leia?" Tuck asked with a smile. "We were worried."

"So I've heard," she quipped, squeezing her brother's fingertips reassuringly. "I feel fine. Sore. But fine."

"That's what I like to hear," Tuck replied, setting the datapad back down. "I can get you a mild painkiller if you'd like."

"No thanks. It's not that bad."

"I have to tell you, Princess," he said, slightly awed, "I've delivered a lot of babies to females of all species. Human birth is probably the most painful, second to maybe Twi'lek," he winked at Ahsha, who grinned and shook her head, "and I have never, ever seen a woman make it through as calm as you."

Leia shrugged and smiled at Luke.

"I had help."

"Well," Ahsha said, coming to stand beside Leia, "do you feel up to trying to feed? Cub was hungry earlier, but we thought it would be best not to wake you."

"That reminds me," Tuck interjected, "have you picked out a name? If you get it to me soon I can make sure he's the first baby registered with the New Republic."

Leia felt in that moment that her heart was going to overflow with joy. The only thing that could have made it any better was Han by her side, his handsome face quirked into that crooked grin that she loved so.

"His name is Haddon. Haddon Prestor Solo."

Tuck nodded.

"Let me take care of that now. Leia, I'll be back in two hours to check your vitals again. You look well now, but I think I want to keep you here an extra day or two to make sure everything is all right."

She was in no hurry to separate herself from Haddon, and Leia would probably have consented to a week of bed rest of Tuck had mandated it at that moment. Instead, she only nodded and Tuck left the room with a smile and a wave.

"Do you really feel better, Leia?" Luke asked. He had been so frightened and she could see the fear still shining in his blue eyes. Leia nodded.

"I do, I swear."

"Good," Ahsha said. "Hopefully, this will be easy then. Leia, I don't want you to get discouraged if Haddon doesn't take to you right away. Sometimes babies need a while to get a hang of this."

Leia nodded and began to loosen the front of her tunic. Immediately, Luke's cheeks reddened as he realized exactly what was about to happen, and he made a move to get up.

"Luke, don't go," Leia said before he could stand.

"Are you sure? This seems a little...private."

Ahsha smiled, and even as she did Haddon latched to Leia's breast and began suckling quietly, still studying his mother's face with his gorgeous hazel eyes.

"You don't have to worry, Commander," Ahsha assured him. "This is nature. It's beautiful." The Twi'lek patted Leia's arm. "It looks like he's a pro. If you have any problems, I'm on the comm, but I think everything is okay."

Leia nodded in agreement, marveling at the sensation of nourishing her own child, and thanked Ahsha as the other woman quietly left the remaining Skywalkers alone in the room. Luke was silent for a long time, awed by his perfect nephew, and it was Leia who spoke first, bringing him from his reverie.

"Thank you for being here with me, Luke."

He nodded.

"Haddon is beautiful, Leia."

"I'm sorry you haven't had a chance to hold him yet."

Luke grinned.

"Oh, I have. They gave him to me after he got all cleaned up. I was so worried for you and I think they were tired of me asking questions, so they handed me Haddon as a distraction. The only reason why I let him go was because someone needed to give an update and Rieekan was threatening a demotion if I didn't hand him over."

Leia chuckled softly, careful not to jostle the infant at her breast.

"Imagine that, a Jedi Knight in need of a distraction."

"I'll make sure to get myself under control before I start teaching Cub."

Leia's good mood suddenly darkened as her thoughts traveled from her son's Force potential to the memories of his biological grandfather. Aside from asking Tuck to test Haddon's midichloridan count, she had nearly forgotten that he might be trained as a Jedi, and she did not want to imagine the hells that a child raised wrong could bring to a newly freed galaxy. Haddon, whose eyelids had been growing heavier and heavier as he nursed, suddenly snapped awake and looked at his mother as if he sensed her pain. Leia suspected he had.

"Luke, I'm sorry, but that's just not something I want to think about right now."

Her brother appeared taken aback for a moment, but slowly it dawned on him just what Leia was referring to and he nodded, understanding.

"I'm sorry. We won't talk about it until you're ready."

Leia nodded, words suddenly impossible because she was becoming overwhelmingly choked up. She wanted, desperately, to blame her sadness on hormone changes brought about by labor and delivery, but she knew that these tears were tears she had wanted to cry since Bespin. Haddon turned his head, still nursing, to get a better look at his mother, and she shut her eyes tightly. Leia's shoulders heaved as she began to sob. She wanted Han, she _needed _Han to be there by her side then, and the reason why he was nowhere to be found was so glaringly obvious.

"He took Han away from me, Luke," she managed through trembling tears. "He should have loved us, but he destroyed my home and he hurt you and he took away his grandson's father. Han should be here now, Luke! He should be here right now, and he's not, and it's Vader's fault."

On the Death Star, Luke had been sure he had forgiven Anakin Skywalker as he watched his father die. But sitting here, witnessing his sister's heartbreak and knowing that she was right, that Han deserved to be by her side when she brought his son into the galaxy and his absence was their father's fault, Luke knew he had not yet fully forgiven the man who had been Darth Vader. He felt his own heart shatter with Leia's pain and could not stop the tears that spilled from his blue eyes. Luke slid forward on the bed and took Leia into his arms, and little Haddon Solo watched with hazel orbs as both his mother and his uncle broke under the pain of his father's absence.

"I miss him, Luke," Leia sobbed. "I miss him so much. And I'm so scared that we'll never get him back and he'll never get to know Haddon-"

Luke squeezed her shoulders, silencing that dangerous train of thought.

"We'll get Han back, Leia. We will."

She buried her face into his shoulder and gave a shuddering sigh.

"I love him. Luke, I need him here."

Silent tears still streaming down his face, Luke nodded.

"I know."


	6. Amendments

Erm, well ... yes. This took some time, didn't it? Thanks for not giving up on me -- that is, if you haven't given up on me. :)

-L.

* * *

C6: Amendments

* * *

"_Halfway 'round the world lies the one thing that you want; Buried in the ground; Hundreds of miles down; The first thing that arises in your mind when you awake; Is bending you 'til you break; Let me hold you now; Baby, close your eyes; Don't open 'til the morning light; Baby, don't forget; We haven't lost it all, yet ... "_  
The Fray, "Syndicate"

* * *

As she stared at the datapad clutched in her trembling hands, she was hardly aware of the bile rising in her throat until she collapsed against the sandy floor of her tiny kitchen, heaving. The words on the screen raced through her mind. They tore at her soul and heart, at her sanity. Her eyes stung with tears of anguish, of crushing grief.

_Dead._

She screamed. It was primal, desperate, otherworldly, like the sound of a dying bantha. It ripped from her body and echoed off the walls, off the dunes, and off the stars.

"No!"

Dead. How could she be dead? Where was the justice?

_Dead. Accident. Body mangled, unable to ship back for burial._

Aada Tambara swiped roughly at her mouth with the back of her blue hand and scowled at the mocking note on her datapad, forgetting to be surprised that she even received any notification. _Accident_. Ha. There was no accident, of that much she was sure. There were no accidents in the crime lord's palace, only murders. Enslaved dancers on the verge of purchased freedom did not get caught in the crossfire of a blaster fight in the main audience chamber. They were probably chained too close to Jabba the Hutt's throne to ever be put at such risk.

_Accident._ The lie jumped off the screen as though it were scrawled in crimson blood. Oola was _murdered_, probably fed to the rancor rumored to be kept in that slimy son of a bantha's palace. Aada shuddered to think that her sister's last moments of life were spent in fear and pain, at the mercy of that hideous beast and its vile owner.

"Oh, Oola," Aada whispered, her words strangled by her tears. The blue-skinned Twi'lek looked with blurred vision out the small viewport in her kitchen. The dry shore of Tatooine's evil Dune Sea was shadowed black in the red light of the two setting suns. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the dunes for the tiny, tiny spec that she knew to be Jabba's palace, the only connection that she'd had with her sister for the past two years. Aada used to look out her window at sunset, used to find the palace and swear silently to Oola that her enslavement was coming to an end. Aada was going to be her sister's savior.

But now Oola was no more.

The thought slashed at her mind again and Aada slammed her fist into the adobe cabinet in front of her, breaking the door into a hundred crumbling pieces. Oola was dead, killed by the vile gangster who kept her chained to his dais and raped her night after night. Aada had been so close to rescuing her sister from that hell. The asking price for a used slave girl was ten thousand credits, and she had _almost_ scrimped together enough money...

It was inconsequential now. Oola could never be rescued.

A new sob escaped Aada's chest as the first sun dipped below the horizon and the desert planet suddenly cooled by staggering degrees. The encroaching dark reminded her how truly alone she was in this wretched place, living in a tiny hut carved from hardened sand, devoted solely to the thought of saving her sister. She had no friends here, no family. No one to mourn with her. Oola had been the only family she had left.

"Oola," Aada said again, crumbling a clump of sand between her fingers, imagining that she was pinching the overgrown head of Jabba off his grotesque form. The monster had destroyed _everything_ Aada ever held dear. He deserved to pay.

The trembling in her hands stopped as that thought seeped into her mind. Revenge. The gangster deserved to pay for what he did to Oola, and pay he would. Oola would have her vindication.

As the second sun set and Tatooine fell into blackness, Aada made her silent promise to the stars. She would kill Jabba the Hutt, even if it took until her dying breath.

* * *

_He could hardly blame the Rebels for forgetting to remember on the anniversary of their day of triumph, but he was frustrated nonetheless. After all, Leia's all-too-conspicuous absence in the Mess, the Hangar Bay, the Command Center, should have been reminder enough. She spent every other day of the year flitting from station to station, determined to do everything in her power to win the war for justice. Shouldn't it have been obvious, then, that the one day she was nowhere to be found was the same day as the first anniversary of the victory at Yavin?_

_The first anniversary of the destruction of Alderaan._

_He had thought at one time in his life that war stopped for nothing, but that was when he was fighting for the side that had no need to celebrate. When all the battles were handed to him as an Imperial lieutenant, celebration would have been unnecessary and indeed obnoxious. _

_But the Alliance had cause to celebrate, and what's more, the Alliance _needed _to celebrate. The anniversary of their biggest victory yet served as a necessary boost in troop morale at a time when all battles since didn't seem to be going their way. So the morning drills were abandoned and the tables in the Mess were shoved aside and even he donated what liquor he had on the _Falcon_ to the revelry. _

_He'd noticed she wasn't around, of course, because he spent more time than he cared to admit scanning the base for that pair of brown eyes. But it wasn't until someone -- a Rogue, no doubt -- snuck into the Communications Center and music began filtering over the com system that he came to the heavy conclusion that no one else realized the dark significance of the day. No one else had watched Leia Organa shrink into herself over the past year, watched her cheeks hollow and her shoulders narrow; no one else wanted to remember what she would never be able to forget._

_And she shouldn't have been forced to grieve alone._

_He found her, then, in her quarters. The door was locked of course, but a detail like that had never been one to stop him in the past. A quick hotwire of the panel revealed her, on the floor in the corner of her room, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the wall opposite. Just staring. She had no tears because she had not yet learned how to mourn the loss of an entire world. It was a burden too big, and she was small, so, so small._

_They were dearest friends on their best days and mortal enemies on their worst, their relationship strained by shared feelings that neither of them were ready to admit. But she did not object to his intrusion, didn't even look at him as he sat down beside her and wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, just half-nodded once and continued with her staring._

_He'd never been good at the business of grief, and if Leia had been male he would have already poured her a tall glass of black whiskey, stuff so strong it was illegal even on Corellia. Hell, as they continued to sit there in silence, he considered it anyway. She was far from a delicate flower, and he'd seen her handle more liquor than half of Rogue Squadron and still be up and looking perfect an hour before first shift. _

_But, though he'd never been good with grief, he'd always been good at recognizing exactly what others needed, and she didn't need a drinking buddy and mind-erasing shots burning down her throat. He glanced down at her. The muscles in her neck were taut, rigid against her pale skin, and the dark circles under her eyes were like bruises. She was pale, not her usual smooth alabaster, but waxen, anemic, like she was being held pallid prisoner to her own demons. Her hair was twisted into a chignon at the base of her neck, but it was messy and chocolate strands fell over her face. The white dress she wore hung loosely over her, making her seem ethereal, ghostly._

_She looked sick. And she looked _exhausted.

_He sighed and brought his other arm up to hug her, then pulled her gently until she was sitting across his lap and her bony cheek rested against his chest. She didn't resist, just let him position her, her body limp, like a ragdoll. She was so frail and small and he was careful not to hold her too tightly, lest he break her in half._

_Leia simply stared ahead for a long while, her expression blank, and Han was ready to draw her in closer when she finally spoke, voice scratchy and oddly devoid of emotion, brown eyes still fixed on some invisible point beyond the wall._

"_I realized yesterday that I've been fighting all this time for something I've never known."_

_He didn't know what exactly he'd been expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn't that. And then she turned towards him and caught his eyes in hers, far too old for her nineteen years and tired, so tired._

"_Freedom?"_

"_Democracy," she amended. "It's something I've only ever studied, but I believe in it because my father knew it, because _he _believed in it."_

"_You're noble."_

_Leia laughed humorlessly and shook her head._

"_No I'm not. I don't even really believe that it's worth it."_

"_Yeah, you do," Han countered, squeezing her shoulders slightly as though the motion would jostle a little sense into her. "C'mon, Princess. You _know _it's worth it."_

"_How? Was the galaxy so much better off before the Emperor?" She searched his face for answers for a short moment and then sighed, defeated. "You don't know. You would have been too young to remember."_

_He opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again. She had a point. He was barely seven when Palpatine rose to power, and what little he remembered of his life before then was his mother, struggling daily in a system that failed her. They had argued, Han and Leia, more times than he really cared to count, about his belief in democracy because his own impressions of it were so tainted. But, as much as wanted to think her cause was foolish, he couldn't, not when he could see her passion, the bright gold flecks that shone in her eyes when she talked about victory and the end of the war._

"_Hey," Han said at last, cupping Leia's cheek so she was looking up at him. "I know that it's not been easy for you recently, and that it probably won't be easy for a while, but what you're doing ... it's the right thing. The _good _thing." He moved forward and brushed his lips against her forehead, then leaned them back together so she was resting her head on his chest, tucked neatly beneath his chin. "Don't let them take that from you, too, Leia."_

_She sighed again, her shoulders shaking with the exhale, and pressed her cheek further against him. _

"_You should get some rest," he murmured into her hair when she didn't say anything, but she only shook her head._

"_Can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes ... I see ... _it._ And I just ... " _

_She trailed off, unable to find the right words, but then again there were no words appropriate to describe the destruction of an entire planet, and anyway, Han understood. He began rubbing her back slowly, flat palm making small circles, and humming the lullaby his mother used to sing to him. It was in Old Corelli, and he hadn't heard the gentle song since he was six years old, since his mother died, but he remembered every word perfectly and still, twenty-one years after her death, found comfort in the tune._

"_That's beautiful," Leia whispered._

"_It's the song my mother would sing when I didn't want to go to bed. She would lie down beside me and rub my back and sing until I fell asleep."_

_Against his chest, he felt Leia smile._

"_Are there words?"_

"_Yes, in Old Corelli, but sometimes she would sing it in Basic, too."_

_She was silent for a moment, then took a deep, steadying breath._

"_Will you -- " A pause. "Will you sing it to me?"_

_Han felt his heart constrict at her vulnerable plea, both saddened by the heartbreak that she bore alone and overcome with the realization of how desperately she needed someone to care. He pressed his lips into her hair once, then rested his cheek against the crown of her head and began to sing._

"_L'nauti nea e'lune silvé, rellé òrs l'celes.  
__ Rellé òrs l'seu a'vas, ehil il'blancs ehlly.__  
Nea apisca l'revé, apisca ols y'sah.  
__ L'rine e'lunelus slivé, l'sahte e'stell slivé.__  
Nauta, nea, nauta lau, lau ecro l'seu.  
__ Nauta, nea, nauta lau ...  
E'nos leges a'nauta ces a'mi."_

_As he finished, he noticed that Leia's breathing had slowed to that deep, rhythmic pace that always accompanied the edges of sleep. Quietly, he reached one arm up and grabbed the blankets off her bed, wrapping them both up in the thin fleece. Then Han whispered the song to her again, this time in Basic, rocking her gently until he was certain she was asleep._

"_Baby's boat's a silver moon, sailing over the sky.__  
Sailing over the sea of dew, while the clouds float by.__  
Baby's fishing for a dream, fishing near and far.  
__ Her line, a silver moonbeam is, her bait, a silver star.  
__ Sail, baby, sail out, out across the sea.__  
Sail, baby, sail out ...  
But always sail back home to me."_

_

* * *

_

There were very few things in the galaxy that frightened Leia Organa Solo. She had faced down legions of Imperial Stormtroopers and survived; had seen war, carnage, death, had held soldiers' ribs together with her own hands in vain attempts to save their lives. She had taken on Palpatine himself in debate on the Senate floor and beaten an increasingly angry Wookiee at dejarik -- twice. She had seen her entire planet destroyed before her very eyes and learned that the man who let it happen was her own father. She had watched as her husband was lead to an almost certain death and lived everyday with the very real possibility that she might never see him again...

She had seen some of the greatest terrors the galaxy had to offer, but none of them, not one, prepared her for the terror of a five week-old infant with colic.

Haddon Solo's incessant crying began when he was four days old, not long after he had finished a nap and been fed and freshly diapered. He was lying on a blanket on the floor next to his mother, looking up at the portable mobile Wicket had made for him, brightly-colored carved wooden pieces shaped like various Alliance fighter ships. As far as Leia could tell, there was nothing wrong with him, but when Haddon began screaming, his face deep crimson, his back arching, she half-panicked and ran him the short distance from the _Falcon _to the medcenter.

Tuck checked the wailing infant over thoroughly, but in the end, gave Leia the too-common diagnosis and told her sympathetically that she would just have to cope. And so she did, the best she could, enduring long days and sleepless nights up with her son, as well as advice from well-meaning friends and strangers alike that was becoming increasingly annoying. Luke had used a soothing technique that had helped the first few days, but then Haddon grew accustomed to the brush of his mind in the Force and his crying returned with a renewed intensity. The same thing happened when Chewie's long arms served as temporary comfort, when one of the female Ewoks named Pika told her to rub Haddon's back in circles while gliding in the rocking chair, when Pax Antilles suggested she rub Ryquin lavendarplant oil on the back of her neck, and when Rieekan had suggested warm baths.

Even the short reprieve granted by these remedies was not enough to let Leia rest, and now, having slept no more than three hours a day since the birth of her son, she was nearing her wit's end. What little weight she'd gained in her pregnancy had already come off with the stress, plus some, so her cheeks were hollowed and gaunt and she was beginning to have trouble nursing. Her attempts to continue with her role in establishing the new government were counterproductive at best, as she was constantly having to be caught up with the Alliance's progress whenever she could make it to meetings. She'd cut her hair off to just below her shoulders one morning in a fit of desperation, because braiding it took too much time in the mornings and it was just an additional stress that she couldn't handle. It now hung in loose waves, hastily parted on the left and shoved behind her ears, probably messy, but she was too exhausted to care.

"Haddon, Sweetheart," she said softly. "Please. Please rest."

Leia looked down helplessly at the screaming infant in her arms and wanted to cry, too. She couldn't help her own child, she who had helped bring down an Empire, and she felt as though she was failing as a mother. It was 0223, and she was pacing her cabin on the _Falcon _in dim light, really now just _hoping _that she could get Haddon to bed. The walls on the ship were not soundproof, and though both of them were far too kind to ever say anything, she was sure that Chewie and Luke both were suffering from lack of sleep, too.

It was fairly dark in the cabin and she was exhausted and not really paying attention when she accidentally collided -- _hard _-- with the desk at the back of the room. Cursing silently, Leia bent down to rub her stinging knee and saw that she had managed to activate one of the holodiscs on the desktop, which was now projecting a soft glow over the dark cabin and an image she recognized as one taken at her twentieth birthday party with Luke, back when their shared birthdays were just a funny coincidence.

The image was of Han and Leia, pausing in their dance long enough to smile for the photographer, whom she remembered vaguely to be Wes Janson. The distance between the two of them was less than respectable even then, nearly a year before either of them had admitted their love out loud. She was wearing a long white dress and her hair was down, and Han was wearing his standard uniform, yellow bloodstripes this time, and they both looked so incredibly happy. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist and she remembered that the fingers of their other hands were intertwined, and that this picture had come not long after an argument between the two of them, though she couldn't remember over what even if she'd wanted.

Leia picked up the holodisc with a small smile, and then realized, belatedly, that Haddon had ceased his crying and was looking with great interest at the image in her other hand. Overjoyed, she brought the image closer to her son's face so she could see it better and sat down with him in the gliding chair. Haddon's hazel eyes reflected almost golden in the soft light, and he reached his chubby hand forward towards Han's face.

She was unprepared for the wave of emotion that crashed into her then. Her son, _Han's son_, missed his father. He was comforted by the image of his father, could recognize Han without ever seeing him before. Leia was all at once thrilled and heartbroken, awed by Haddon's ability and saddened that Han wasn't there to share it.

The room was silent as Haddon focused on the image of his parents, and Leia suddenly and unexpectedly found herself missing the noise. With the baby finally quiet, her mind was free to run away with the memories of her husband, and she desperately needed a distraction. Cradling Haddon in her left hand, she positioned the holodisc somewhat awkwardly in her left fingers so it rested on his chest. Then, careful not to jostle him too much, she stretched her free arm towards the desk and managed to brush the controls for the cabin's sound system. Smooth Corellian jazz began to filter quietly throughout the room, and Haddon looked up for the source of the sound for a moment before settling his gaze back on the image.

Leia grabbed the patterned quilt resting on the arm of the chair and swaddled it around Haddon, kissing his forehead gently and settling them back together in the rocker. Slowly, she placed the still-active holodisc on the corner of the desk, then brought her hand back to caress Haddon's cheek. He was studying his mother's face now with heavy eyelids, cocooned in the warmth of his blanket and the safety of Leia's arms.

"I know you miss Daddy, my Little Cub, and I'm so sorry," she whispered, smoothing the baby's blonde curls. "I miss him, too. But I promise you that we will get him back. He loves you so much, Haddon, we both love you _so _much and he's going to come home to us."

Haddon gave a great yawn in response, soothed by Leia's voice, and she smiled broadly.

"Your Daddy saved my life, Haddon," she continued. "Did you know that? He was always there when I got scared or sad or lonely."

Leia kissed her son again, remembering the lullaby that Han had sung to her the night of the first anniversary of Alderaan's destruction. He had been so careful with her, had held her there through the night, his presence allowing her sleep and peaceful dreams on a night when she was sure she'd find neither. When she had awoken in his arms the next morning, overwhelmed by the realization that she was irrevocably falling for him, she'd started a fight to compensate for her faltering resolve. Still, she knew even then that she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Han.

Face still close to Haddon's, Leia quietly began to sing the lullaby, first in Old Corelli, then in Basic, just as Han had done all those years ago. The infant's eyes grew heavier and heavier, and before she reached the end of the song, he was fast asleep. Rocking their sleeping son gently, Leia focused on the image of her husband on the desk across from her whispering the last line of the lullaby so it was lost in the dulcet woodwinds of the jazz music.

"_But always sail back home to me..."_

* * *

Luke Skywalker's early morning runs had allowed him to explore Endor for kilometers beyond the perimeter of the Alliance's base and the Ewok village in every direction, but this morning, his feet took him on a familiar, yet mostly untraveled route deep within the forest. He ran, pushing himself faster and faster through the dense green brush, until the overhead tree canopy grew sparse and he came to a small clearing nearly five kilometers from base.

He had counted at least four thundershowers in the past few months, one with rain so severe that eight of the ground-level buildings the Alliance had hastily erected had flooded with several centims of water. But despite the rain, the hallowed ground was still charred black and no flora had yet to reclaim the earth where he had watched his father's body burn.

Luke stopped running at the edge of the clearing and walked slowly to the scored ground. Slowly, he bent to pick up the melted remains of his father's mask, a formless blob of black plastisteel, one misshapen viewsocket barely discernible, and even then, that was only if you knew exactly what you held in your hand. It was all that was left of his father; or, and perhaps more appropriate, it was all that was left of Darth Vader.

Sighing, he dropped heavily to the ground, running his prosthetic right hand over the mask. The hand was perfect. It looked real and felt real and yet it wasn't. It did not boast skin, but synthflesh; durasteel, not bones; electrical circuits and wires, not blood. And it served as a constant reminder that, even though he had forgiven Anakin Skywalker, and even though his father had turned to good at the end, Luke was just as much Anakin's son as he was Vader's.

And that reminder scared him.

"Yoda would say that's the Dark Side talking."

Not at all startled a voice in the seemingly empty clearing, Luke looked to his right and smiled at the ethereal form of Anakin Skywalker as he appeared, sitting cross-legged next to his son. Anakin smiled in return, an upturn of the corners of his mouth that was identical to Leia's, and Luke had to remind himself that he was looking at his father, not his older brother.

"Twin brother," Anakin corrected, grinning wider now. "I look twenty-three, and you are twenty-three, so it works out."

Luke chuckled and tossed the mask back into the extinguished pyre.

"I feel a lot older than that," the younger Skywalker returned, bright blue eyes focusing somewhere beyond the tree line. "Tatooine ... seems like ages ago."

"Hm," Anakin agreed, following Luke's gaze. They settled into silence for a long moment, then he spoke again. "How are you, Luke?"

"I'm tired," Luke said with a sigh, turning back to his father. "Haddon. Leia's been doing everything she can, but the walls on that ship are thin."

A shadow seemed to cross Anakin's face at the mention of his daughter and grandson, and Luke couldn't decide if it was because of guilt or sadness, or perhaps something else.

"How is she? Leia? And Haddon? Is he sick?"

Luke shook his head.

"No. Well, I don't think so. He has colic, but Leia's medic said it's just something that babies get and there's nothing anyone can really do about it. He cries and cries and cries and I think it's starting to wear on her. She acts strong and she's trying to keep up with all the politics, but it's hard. She's gotten really thin, thinner than after -- well -- " Luke broke off awkwardly and Anakin grimaced. _After Alderaan_, he meant to say. _After her torture_. "She misses Han more than she lets on."

The last words were delivered with a pointed look and Anakin grimaced again.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You shouldn't tell me," Luke returned, feeling slightly guilty for bringing up what he did. "Tell Leia."

"I don't think she'll want to hear it."

"Probably not," Luke agreed. "But try."

Anakin sighed and nodded, and again they fell into silence. This time, it was Luke that spoke first.

"We've captured ten of the twelve Grand Admirals and named prosecuting attorneys for three of them," he said brightly, sensing that the conversation desperately needed to change directions. "Lando Calrissian has been leading the search. And Wedge Antilles is close to retaking Coruscant. Isard is pesky, but she's not good enough."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, clearly grateful for the change in conversation.

"Who's your intelligence chief?"

"Airen Cracken," Luke answered. "He's had the position for a little over a year. After Hoth."

"There are thirteen."

"What?"

"Thirteen Grand Admirals. Who are you missing?"

"Batch and Syn."

"Do you have Thrawn?"

Luke furrowed his brow.

"Who?"

"Thrawn," Anakin said again. "Mitth'raw'nuruodo. He's the thirteenth. He's a Chiss."

Luke whistled.

"A non-human Grand Admiral?"

Anakin nodded.

"He was promoted about two years ago, but it was done in secret so not many know. Have your Intel Chief look into it. Last I heard, Palpatine had sent him to the Unknown Regions."

"I'll tell him."

There was another moment of silence as Anakin looked as though he was mulling something over.

"You know, Luke," he began thoughtfully, "you could save yourselves a lot of trouble if you took control of the Stormtroopers."

Luke studied his father for a moment, floored.

"You can do that?"

"They're clones," he affirmed. "They've been programmed. Alter their programming ... " Anakin snapped his fingers, but the gesture proved slightly comical as it made no sound. "You end the war for good. Kuat, Fondor, Sluis Van, Duro ... the shipyards are yours. Coruscant is yours. Isard will have no one to fight her battles. Thrawn, Syn, Batch. They won't have anyone protecting them. You'd still have the officers, of course, but without the clone firepower to back them up, they can't do anything."

"How -- " Luke began, but Anakin was already there.

"Kamino. It's in Wild Space, south of the Rishi Maze. I've only ever been there twice, but that's where you go. All the technology is there. You can reprogram the clones." He paused, as if considering his next statement, a significant look crossing his face. "There is a Kill Switch."

"Shav," Luke breathed. "There's go to be at least two hundred million."

"Closer to three. But, they have a short lifespan. Ten, twelve years."

"If that's the case, we could reprogram them and end the cloning ... phase them out gradually."

"That's what I would suggest."

Luke exhaled deeply and glanced the sky. The pinks and oranges of early morning had long since burned away, replaced by a brilliant blue, the forest alive with the sounds of the morning avians. He needed to get back. Leia and Haddon would be up soon if they weren't already, and he and his twin had taken up the morning ritual of sharing drinks -- kaffe for him, tea for her -- and talking before the day really got started. Standing up, he turned to his father, who followed suit.

"So. Kamino. Do you have the coordinates?"

* * *

The Untraveled Region of Tatooine's Dune Sea was cruel to most during the majority of the year, but in the stormy season, it was completely uninhabitable. Fierce sandstorms blew up daily, 500-plus kilometer per hour winds whipping across the terrain, destroying millennia-old land formations, reducing them to pebbles. A thick-skinned Sand Person, evolved to withstand the harshest desert conditions, would survive perhaps a minute; a human, no more than a few seconds, most likely dying of blood loss as the lethal sand sheared flesh from bone.

If Tatooine employed cartographers, they would have been forced to redraw the area after every storm season. The landscape was left completely transformed after every storm, and following weeks of deadly tempests, it was left virtually unrecognizable -- provided one could distinguish sand dune from sand dune in the first place. It was all-too-simple to get lost, even easier to die, victim to the baking desert heat.

And it was in the middle of the altered landscape of the Untraveled Region that Curio Sar found himself cursing his dilapidated R-Series freighter, and, more importantly, the slimy little Rodian who'd sold him that malfunctioning navicomputer. Really, he should have known better than to trust anyone on Hypori, but the stolen shipment of ketterspice was too much money for him to pass up, and these things were truly time sensitive ...

"Kreth!" Sar shouted, kicking the landing claw with one booted foot, which only resulted in a throbbing toe. It had taken him three weeks to get here after he stole the ketterspice on Druckenwell, a hyperspace jump that should have been four hours -- tops. His first navicomputer shorted out and forced him to make an emergency on Hypori, resulting in the purchase of the second computer that rapidly calculated no fewer than ten microjumps before Sar could get the ship on course to Tatooine. Ketterspice was a powerful stimulant and it sold for copious credits when one could find it, but it was volatile and broke down quickly. Take it any more than two weeks after it was blended and you would not be in for a very comfortable last few minutes of life.

"Kreth," Sar swore again. If he'd gotten the spice to Jabba on time, he could have netted close to half the profits. Sure, he would have made more if he sold it on his own, but the Hutt knew how to move illegal stimulants. With Jabba's help, Sar was looking at nearly 60,000 credits. As it stood, he was in the hole a good seven thousand. He could risk selling the drugs at the palace once he got the navicomputer working again, but that would no doubt prove to be a very poor life decision. So instead, he was stuck in the middle of the Dune Sea with three days left of rations, a bum computer, no money, and twenty kilos of sour drugs.

Frustrated, Sar whipped out his blaster and shot blindly in the ground, then jumped back, startled, when the blast he expected to be absorbed by the sand ricocheted backwards and sparked against his rundown ship. Intrigued, he brushed the sand beneath him around with his foot, revealing a small edge of some sort of carbon-scored metal. He bent down and began digging with his hands, furiously moving sand away to reveal what he desperately hoped was worth something.

Sar dug for a good three minutes in the hot suns before his hand hit a bump in the flat metal. Excited, he brushed the sand off the bump, dirty fingers removing sand from crevices, exposing more and more of the metal to reveal --

He stumbled backwards on to his rear as he realized he'd uncovered a face. There was a _body_ beneath him. Horrified and disgusted, Sar's first instinct was to get far, far away, and he was clumsily scrambling to his feet when it finally dawned on him that he could be looking at a lost piece of art from a shipwreck, something that very well might be worth serious credits. It was the more rational thought, of course. After all, who puts bodies in metal?

Sar continued digging for the next hour, forced to return to the cool safety of his ship for water four times, but finally, he was able to uncover the entire sculpture and began to dig around the perimeter. The whole block was about a third of a meter thick, and he was relieved to see a glowing panel when he exposed the upper left edge. There was a hover mechanism on this art, then, and it was working, so he wouldn't have to rig some device to drag it onto his ship.

As Sar moved in to inspect the controls, he noticed five green indicator lights, beneath which was text in Aurebesh that he couldn't quite make out. He brushed what sand he could from beneath the lights, hopeful that he would be given the name of the artist, and perhaps, an estimate for how much the piece was worth.

"Kreth," he breathed, falling backwards on his rear for the second time. He studied the body in the metal, slack-jawed, utterly flabbergasted by the realization that there was a _living _person encased in this metal slab.

"Whoah, pal," Sar said, leaning in to getter look at the man's face. "You'a ain't havin' th' best'a days, is ya?"

He studied the man's features for a long time. He'd seen this man before, somewhere, though he couldn't quite place him. The guy could have been a smuggler, like Sar. In their line of work, it was impossible to know everyone, but you learned after a while who you needed to look out for; who you couldn't trust, who you'd try to kill at the first chance because they were better than you. Sar wracked his brain, struggling to place the frozen man's familiar features. There was something about that face, that slightly crooked nose and that barely-discernible scar on the man's chin, _something _that Sar knew was important.

"Oh, kreth."

The realization hit Sar like a ton of durasteel. Slowly, a wide, maniacal grin spread across his weather-beaten face and he began to laugh, a low chuckle that grew louder and louder until he was kneeling in the middle of the Dune Sea, head thrown backwards, cackling up at the hot, red sky.

Maybe this trip wasn't a total wash after all.

* * *

Leia was sitting at the dejarik table by the time Luke made it back to the ship, a chipped blue mug of steaming tea in already front of her. She was freshly showered, hair pulled back in hidden pins at both temples, and no doubt looked and felt more rested than she had in months. Haddon had slept until 0830, meaning that Leia, too, had nearly tripled the amount of sleep she'd gotten the night before. Now he was nursing, wrapped loosely in a pale green blanket and playing with the deep v-neck of his mother's white dress as she quietly hummed along with the Alderaani symphony playing throughout the _Falcon_.

She glanced up from the datapad she was reading as Luke entered the galley and gave her a funny look.

"What?" Leia asked.

"Nothing," he insisted, crossing to the counter and pouring some kaffe into an equally chipped black mug. "It's just that ... you look ... good."

She made a face as he sat down across from her.

"_Thanks_, Luke."

"No," he fumbled, realizing his mistake. "I didn't mean -- "

Leia chucked and shook her head.

"Oh, hush. I know what you meant." She leaned slightly towards Luke with a wide grin stretching across her face. "I got him to sleep last night. Six whole hours. By the way, Chewie made that."

The last words were thrown in hastily as Luke moved to take a sip of his kaffe. He heard her warning too late, probably still awed by the fact she had gotten Haddon to sleep at all, and he sputtered as he took a large gulp of too-strong kaffe. Leia had acquired a taste for the bitter concoction on their jaunt to Bespin, but she knew that her brother had never quite gotten used to Chewie's particular brand of kaffe. Coughing, Luke got up and walked over to the cool storage unit, in search of some sort of creamer to cut the flavor. He returned with a carton of nerf milk and a plate of breadcakes and soft cheese, as well as a small pot of honey.

"Eat, Leia," Luke demanded, sliding the plate in front of her. He took a cake and poured a little milk in his kaffe, then sat down again. "Six hours, huh?"

She smiled and nodded as she scooped up a little cheese with the bread, then dipped it into the honey.

"It's Han. And music. Maybe both. I accidentally activated that holo of us dancing on our birthday, and Haddon stopped crying and reached for Han's face. I turned the music on, too. He was a little fussy when he woke up this morning, but that's been all. I can't believe it."

"Wow," Luke replied, genuinely impressed. "Do you think it'll last?"

Leia shrugged, having just taken a bite of her breakfast.

"If you have any old holos?" she asked after she swallowed. "I want to make sure he gets to look at different ones."

"Sure."

Leia refocused her attentions on Haddon and they ate in silence for a few moments. She quickly adjusted her dress and the blanket over her shoulder when the baby finished his morning meal, noticing finally that Luke was watching her carefully as she began patting Haddon on the back.

"_What_, Luke?" she asked again.

Luke opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider his words. Instead, he shrugged.

"Nothing, Leia, really. Are you going to the Command meeting this afternoon?"

"Yes," she said slowly, lifting a suspicious eyebrow. "Chewie's going to watch Cub."

"Okay." He stood up and poured his nearly-full mug of kaffe into the basin. "Okay, good. I'm going to shower, and then I've got to do a little research. I'll see you a little later?"

Leia frowned.

"Luke?"

"I promise," Luke said, anticipating her question. "It's nothing. See you at the meeting."

He retreated hastily, leaving his sister staring after him, visibly perplexed by his odd behavior. Sighing when Luke was out of earshot, Leia lifted Haddon from her shoulder and lifted him so she could kiss his belly. The baby responded with a toothless, crooked smile and reached towards his mother.

"You're right, Haddon," Leia cooed, nuzzling Haddon's cheek. "Uncle Luke _is_ a little weird. But we love him anyway, don't we?"

* * *

By midmorning, Leia was beginning to feel that, after five weeks, she was finally starting to get the hang of this mothering thing. She had again succeeded in putting a tearless Haddon down for a nap and was reclining in Han's seat in the cockpit, enjoying soft acoustic music that she recognized as Brentaali and studying the latest Intel reports, when she heard soft cooing filtering over the babycom. Surprised, she glanced at her chrono. Haddon had been sleeping for less than an hour, and anyway, he hadn't quite reached the stage where he could do more vocalizing beyond crying. She held her breath for a moment, listening intensely, and then gasped silently as she heard whispered words coming from inside her cabin.

"Hello there, Haddon."

Leia snatched her blaster from its resting place on the instrument panel in front of her and darted silently out of the cockpit, scanning the corridors as she made her way towards her son, trying desperately to control her thundering heartbeat. The hatch to the ship was open and the boarding ramp down, but that was standard for her makeshift home during the daylight. The _Falcon _was berthed near the center of the base, and soldiers and civilians alike were constantly walking by. Surely, someone would have noticed an attempt to kidnap her son?

Her cabin door was open when she reached it, but that was how it had been left. Aiming her blaster, arms ramrod straight, Leia crept into the cabin after the intruder ...

And the blaster slipped from her stunned fingers and fell with a quiet thud on a blanket she'd left on the floor that morning. She stood there, mouth agape, eyes locked on the man who had invaded her cabin.

"Leia -- "

"Get. _Out._" she hissed, crossing swiftly to the bassinet in the corner, behind which the intruder stood. Haddon was still sleeping, and though he appeared unharmed, she lifted the swaddled baby carefully from the crib and cradled him protectively against her chest.

"Leia, please," he pleaded. "I just wanted to see him. And you."

"No. You have _no _right." Her voice was barely whisper, and it was trembling, but she still brokered no room for argument.

Anakin Skywalker gazed upon his daughter sadly, hands splayed before him in a gesture of peace.

"I came to apologize to you, Leia. And to my grandson. For what I've done."

He stepped forward and Leia retreated, her vision suddenly blurry with angry, terrified tears.

"You came to _apologize_?" The word fell from her mouth as though it were poison.

"Yes." He touched his fingers to her shoulder and she jerked away as though burned, horrified with the realization that she could _feel _him, a ghost, a specter.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head from side to side, her resolve faltering.

"I don't want to hurt you, Leia," Anakin insisted quietly, moving away from her as though to prove his intentions. He dropped his gaze. "I've done enough of that."

"You came to apologize?" she repeated again, incredulous.

"For Alderaan. For -- for the Death Star. For Cloud City. All of it."

"You came to apologize." This time, it was a statement. She had fully wrapped her mind around the reason for this visit, and yet she was still in shock that her father would actually have the audacity. "Do you really think -- "

"No," he interrupted, anticipating her question. "I don't. But I have to start somewhere."

"You don't," she retorted. "You don't have to start anywhere. You can leave."

"Leia, if you'll just -- "

"Stop," Leia demanded, loudly enough that Haddon stirred a little and she rocked him gently to keep him sleeping. "Just -- just stop. You ... Do you know ... " she faltered, taking a deep, calming breath before she continued. "Do you know that I live every day terrified of what I have brought into this galaxy because of you? Look at my son. He is _perfect_. He is beautiful, he is so, so good, and it isn't _fair_. I shouldn't have to be _afraid_ of what he could become."

"Let me explain."

"What could you _possibly _say to me that could make anything you've done better?"

"Leia," Anakin insisted, taking a step towards his daughter again. "You have to hear me. You have to understand. I fell to the Dark Side because I was _angry_, because I was _terrified _of the fate that could have befallen my wife and children. Don't you see? I was afraid of your suffering, and yet _I _became the cause of it. Everything I've done to you, everything that could have been prevented, it all started because of my fear."

Leia furrowed her brow, feeling somewhere between bewildered and frustrated, and placed one delicate hand over the back of Haddon's head, shielding him.

"You can't ... you can't really have come here expecting my forgiveness."

Anakin frowned slightly, a rather serious, paternal expression she'd seen on Bail Organa in his less tolerant moments. She didn't appreciate it.

"I'm asking, Leia. As your father -- "

"You are _not _my father," she snapped, the volume of her voice rising a few decibels. "Bail Organa was my father."

"As someone who cares, deeply, about you, then," he amended. "I'm asking. If you care at all about your son's soul, if you care about yours. Don't end up like I did."

"I am _nothing_ like you."

"You are _exactly _like me, Leia. Until you let go, you will be exactly like me, like who I was."

A hot tear slipped down Leia's cheek and she was trembling in earnest now, but still her eyes remained fiery, defiant. Dark brown and accusatory.

"Luke said," she whispered dangerously, "that Kenobi _felt _it when Alderaan was destroyed. Did you feel it, too? Did it _hurt _you the way it hurt him?"

Sighing sadly, Anakin shook his head.

"And when you injected me on the Death Star, when you watched as your men beat me, when you shoved your mind into mine and made every nerve ending in my body burn, when you heard me scream until my throat bled and beg you to kill me, did it _bother _you?"

He merely held her gaze this time, unmoving, but his silence was answer enough. Setting her jaw, she nodded once, crisply, even as another tear fell.

"What about all the soldiers you killed at Hoth? At Yavin? Good men with families? Did you feel that?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Because I did. I still do. Every day, I ache for those who have lost someone they love to this stupid war and _so _many of them are grieving because of you. I fight because I want things to be better for them, because I _care _about them, and that means I am _not_ like you, I will _never _be like you. _Haddon _will be _nothing like you_."

She watched him angrily for several tense moments, a sudden, horrible thought forming in her mind and spreading cold throughout her body.

"Did you _know?" _she hissed, careful not to wake the sleeping infant in her arms. "At Bespin? Did you know that I was pregnant?" Her voice broke, but she continued. "Did you know that -- that Han was my husb -- that we were ... that you were killing my son's _father_?"

Anakin ducked his head for a moment and shifted uncomfortably, silently, before meeting his daughter's penetrating glare.

"Yes."

Leia closed her eyes. It was too much. She, perhaps, could have handled his lack of remorse at her torture four years ago, and his ambivalence towards Alderaan, because they had been fighting and were on different sides. She had been a prisoner and her home had been an enemy, and the old adage really justified it all with the fairness in love and war, didn't it?

But to know that her father was aware of her pregnancy, that he did what he did to Han in spite of the child growing inside of her ... Leia couldn't take it. _How _could she be expected to forgive Anakin for that? How was it fair?

"Leia," Anakin began, but she shook her head once and sank into the gliding chair behind her, eyes on her son because she couldn't stand to look at her father any longer. She was crying in earnest now, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I think you should go now," she whispered, her words soft, defeated. "Please. I can't ... please just go."

Leia watched her sleeping infant for a long time, studying his cherubic face and finding solace from her anger in the beautiful life she and Han had created together, and when she at last looked up again, Anakin Skywalker was gone.


End file.
